


look for the sun and fly into the light

by fyredancer



Category: Chinese Actor RPF, 陈情令 | The Untamed (TV) RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fae, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Anal Sex, Angry Swan Yibo, Barebacking, Claiming, Disney Prince Xiao Zhan, Falling In Love, First Time Together, Happy Ending, Light Angst, M/M, Magical Artifacts, Mates, Pining, Swans, Top Wang Yi Bo/Bottom Xiao Zhan, love at first touch, sex while on the phone, the other person doesn't know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:07:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 28,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25554814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fyredancer/pseuds/fyredancer
Summary: Xiao Zhan gets knocked down in the middle of the worst day, and things only go downhill for him from there.Yibo crashes into his life and won’t leave, and it’s not long before Xiao Zhan isn’t sure he wants him to.“I didn’t know what to call it, what was happening between us, but I liked it. It felt silly and fragile and good.”
Relationships: Wang Yi Bo/Xiao Zhan
Comments: 147
Kudos: 647
Collections: BJYX Prompt Fest 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [blue_forget_machine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blue_forget_machine/pseuds/blue_forget_machine) in the [bjyx_fest](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjyx_fest) collection. 



> As an author I have several people to thank for their help and inspiration.
> 
> Many shiny thanks to raspberry rey for cheerleading and banner-making and strewing little crumbs of encouragement as you read this while I was dumping insane amounts into the Gdoc every day, and helping me with the final title.
> 
> As always, Xinxin continues to be Most Important Bunny Wrangler, especially with respect to finessing certain scenes and general character impressions that made it into the outline.
> 
> And to xelloss_poo who I nominate as most speedy and thorough beta-reader in addition to all your lovely feedback. Some day I’ll get the hang of commas. (Probably not.)
> 
> Dear Illertra: I hope you enjoy this! I’m not sure whether it hit everything you were hoping for but the idea of angry swan Yibo really seized my imagination and, well, here we are.

It's a Tuesday and it's shaping up to be the worst day of Xiao Zhan's life.

He’s fresh out of a disastrous meeting with his biggest potential client—fine, his only real client—where they shredded the three new concepts he tried to present them for the deal he has yet to close. He stopped by the corner café of their building on his way out, planning to take a drink with him to the lakeside park that was between his potential client and his home. Water and air, the client had emphasized, declaring none of his designs sufficiently conveyed water or air. As if that weren’t frustrating enough, the corner café had been all out of his favorite green tea, so he’d risked an oolong tea and a careless pedestrian had knocked into him as he crossed the street to the park. His white shirt is sporting a wide, long brown stain now.

He hurries up the asphalt path that winds through the park, no longer interested in finding a bench with a placid view to occupy himself and work on some sketches for a few hours as he tries to draw inspiration from nature. His phone starts to ring and he bends his head, digging into his satchel trying to extract it.

Before he manages to find his phone, someone body slams into him full tilt and Xiao Zhan goes down hard. His art portfolio goes one way, his shoulder satchel goes flying, upending its contents half over the pathway and half into the grass, and he stumbles and falls, managing to twist and land in the grass instead of faceplanting onto asphalt.

Thank the gods for small favors, at least.

“What the hell?!” Xiao Zhan splutters, pushing himself up onto his elbow and looking around with wild eyes. There’s someone else, a figure in jeans and a white shirt, on the grass sprawled out amongst his scattered personal belongings, and when he glances up the path, a jogger is barreling through like he’s trying to set a sprint record. “Did he—” 

He didn’t get a clear look at who slammed into him, so he doesn’t know if it was the blond sitting up with a low groan, or the jogger who is already halfway across the park. He has a feeling it was the one who’s never stopped running; chain reaction, perhaps.

The blond turns their head toward Xiao Zhan and their eyes meet.

“Hey, are you okay?” Xiao Zhan asks tentatively. The person is so beautiful he can’t tell if they’re a man or a woman. The adam’s apple implies a boy, but he’s been through art school; he’s not making any assumptions.

The person inhales sharply, hand going up to their nape. A fine-boned hand pats around to the hollow of the throat between two lovely collarbones. His eyes go fierce and he glares past Xiao Zhan to the jogger who is so far up the path they might as well be out of reach.

The person casts about in their immediate vicinity, looking around on the grass while Xiao Zhan pats himself down for injury. It would be his luck for this day if he managed to break something. The blond snatches something from the grass, tucks it into their pocket, and leaps nimbly to their feet, making Xiao Zhan feel ancient despite his twenty-five years. There’s no way he could get up like that without his knees cracking and complaining.

“Hey, wait, you—” Xiao Zhan exclaims, confused.

“Yibo,” the beautiful blond says in a deep, masculine voice. Xiao Zhan still isn’t making any assumptions. “I’m fine. He’s a _thief_.”

He launches himself off the grass, long legs flashing as he breaks into a run and Xiao Zhan watches numbly as Yibo darts up the path. Soon he, too, is out of reach as fast as the jogger who clocked them both.

Xiao Zhan groans and begins to collect his scattered belongings from the grass, sweeping the entire contents of his emptied satchel back into the now grass-stained leather, stuffing everything in with increasingly impatient jerks as his eyes go over reference books, pencil cases, a pack of unopened erasers, but he doesn’t find his phone. He snatches everything up from the grass and puts it in his satchel but nothing is phone-shaped.

His phone.

His phone is _gone_.

“No,” Xiao Zhan moans, rocking back to sit on his ass with his satchel clutched in his arms. He rolls to his feet like an ungainly fawn: going to one thigh first, then his knees, getting up and grabbing his art portfolio in passing. A quick glance here and there reveals no further personal items laying on the grass, but no sleek, dark phone, either.

Not only has he failed to get the number for the most beautiful person he’s ever seen in his life, but that person has run off with his phone, obviously having mistaken Xiao Zhan’s for his own.

He begins to jog half-heartedly toward the direction both jogger and Yibo disappeared but gives up when it’s clear they’re both long since gone.

Xiao Zhan groans and slides his hand into his satchel to check the inner pocket for his keys. Those are there, at least.

It’s time to go home, lock the door, nurse whatever bruises he’s earned from the encounter and pretend that the day never happened. Then check his account balance online to see if he can afford a new phone.

Once Xiao Zhan gets home to his studio flat, he peels his tea-stained shirt off and sets about attempting to improve his day. He’s locked safely away from the world at large and Murphy’s law specifically, or so he hopes. He sets his keys in the ornate thrown-glass bowl on the tall, spindly table just inside the door, leaves his art portfolio on the couch and chucks his satchel into a corner of his bedroom area. 

He does his best to scrub the tea stain out in his sink first, but it’s a white shirt and he’s pretty sure it’s a lost cause. He sighs and sets that aside. Maybe a dry cleaner could rescue it, but he can’t afford that.

Some days Xiao Zhan seriously questions what he was thinking, trying to start up his own design firm. He’s only a few years out of college, internship and basic entry-level years behind him, and the cubicle life was not for him, so he’s scraped up every last bit of his savings and he’s making a play for it, being his own boss. 

The bonus of being his own boss: he doesn’t have to pay himself for labor.

The worst of being his own boss: he still has expenses, both business and personal, and he has to live, pay rent, eat, and afford internet in order to keep coming up with concepts to pitch.

If he doesn’t manage to hook this environmental firm with his next attempt at a pitch, he’s trying to decide if he can live on the bench outside the library, store his things in a locker at the bus stop, and use free wireless wherever available.

He could ask his mom for more money, and he knows she’d send it, but he should already be at the point where he can start helping out his parents, rather than them having to sink more money into him post-education.

After a quick shower, Xiao Zhan rustles up a meal of gussied-up cup noodles, his main dietary staple outside of tea eggs in congee for the mornings. He frets over his lost phone for ten minutes or so as he digs out his portfolio, then takes himself back to his work table to return to the drawing board, so to speak.

Once he re-works his concept proposals, Xiao Zhan has a feeling this is his last chance with the environmental firm. If he doesn’t hit their brief for water and air, frustrating and vague as it is, he’s going to have this shot at a deal slip through his fingers.

He works until daylight fades from the windows. With deep reluctance he switches the electric lamp on over his desk, wondering if he should go to bed and wake up early to compensate. No, that won’t work—his phone was his alarm clock, and that disappeared with the blond beauty. 

Yibo, Xiao Zhan thinks, and wonders if he’ll ever see him again. Maybe if he goes back to the park tomorrow? 

He keeps working, and the later it gets, the more his drawings remind him of a sweep of sunlit hair. He thinks of fierce, dark eyes. He begins to sketch the sweep of a wing shaking free a scattered halo of droplets.

It’s past midnight according to his laptop when Xiao Zhan scrubs at his face and gets up from his work table. He’s barely conscious enough to brush his teeth and strip down for sleep and manages to pass out in bed. He gives a muffled exclamation; the thigh he fell on earlier that day seems to be shaping up into a nasty bruise.

At least when he rolls over, he drops into an immediate, dreamless sleep.

The banging noise doesn’t make sense for a long time. Xiao Zhan tries to pull his pillow over his head. He grumbles when the pillow fails to block out the sound. He sits up and flails, trying to figure out where the noise is coming from.

Oh, the door.

It was so regular and loud, his sleeping mind thought it was like a banging windscreen, which of course isn’t possible, as his studio flat windows don’t open. It’s probably some kind of fire code violation but he can’t afford to complain.

With a deep scowl, Xiao Zhan stumbles around his bed trying to find his robe, fails utterly, and grabs a pair of sweatpants to pull up over his hips.

All the while, the banging on his door continues, to the point Xiao Zhan starts to get worried a neighbor or two will complain about him and he’ll get a strike against him from the building manager. He hurries to the door, getting progressively alarmed the closer he gets and the louder the sharp, staccato bangs are.

He yanks the door open and a fist freezes mid-air. Xiao Zhan is staring right into the face of the beautiful, furious blond boy from the park.

Yibo.

“What,” Xiao Zhan begins and his voice gets stuck. All his anger drains out of him and he sounds timid with shock. He clears his throat. “What are you _doing_ here? What time is it?” He can’t allow himself to think _oh, I really did want to see him again_ because it’s the middle of the night and how did Yibo even find him?

“Two a.m.,” Yibo answers shortly, and holds up Xiao Zhan’s phone. “No lock? You even had your address in a contact card, gege. That’s very unsafe.”

Xiao Zhan makes a grab for his phone and Yibo holds it out of reach. “Give me my phone! Why else are you here?” He tries not to whine; he fears he’s not very successful. He’s had maybe two hours of sleep and he’s completely flustered.

Even in the dim hallway light, Yibo is an absolute vision, soft-looking pale blond hair framing a face of utter perfection.

“I lost something,” Yibo says, leaning hard against the door when Xiao Zhan makes another unsuccessful grab for his phone.

"So?" Xiao Zhan replies, leveraging more of his weight against his door. He grunts and gives up. He might as well be a rag doll throwing himself at a stone wall.

"In the park," Yibo clarifies with a frown that's somehow as beautiful as the rest of him. 

Xiao Zhan sighs. "I'm sorry?" he tries. It's late, and he's tired.

Now the frown is a scowl and the beautiful man steps forward, looming into his face and bringing a fresh scent with him, like sun-warmed silk and the outdoors. "I lost it when I bumped into you."

Xiao Zhan takes a step back, Yibo takes another step forward, and he’s in his apartment.

“Oh,” Xiao Zhan falters. “I didn’t see anything on the ground.”

“I know. I went back there to look, too,” Yibo says.

“What was it? Maybe—”

“Can’t say,” Yibo interrupts.

Xiao Zhan frowns. “Then, how…”

“Help me look for it,” Yibo interrupts him again. He holds up Xiao Zhan’s phone. “In exchange for this.”

Xiao Zhan rubs at his eyes. “Can we do it tomorrow? It’s dark out there and I’m so tired I’m going to pass out.”

Yibo hesitates.

“Do you…” Xiao Zhan frowns. “Do you have a place to stay?”

Yibo’s glare slides into a corner. “Not right now,” he mutters.

It’s the kind of tone that discourages further questioning.

“Okay,” Xiao Zhan says, a little bit more awake. He has someone else’s plight to focus on. He can’t send Yibo back out into the night with no place to stay. There’s weird creeps that hang around the park after midnight, or so ‘they’ say. “Come in. You can crash on my couch, all right? We can go back to the park in the morning.”

He doesn’t know how much use he’s going to be if Yibo won’t even say what he’s looking for, but he supposes that’s something he can try to coax out of him tomorrow.

Yibo’s eyes lock on him. “All right,” he says. He holds his hand out. 

Xiao Zhan is about to shake it when he realizes Yibo is putting his phone into his hand. He lowers his head, tries not to blush, and snatches his phone when the side of Yibo’s hand burns against his.

“I’m Xiao Zhan,” he says, cocking his head expectantly. “He/him pronouns.”

Yibo gives him a blank look. “Yibo,” he says after a moment. His eyes narrow. “Are you asking if I’m a man?”

Xiao Zhan takes a step back, hands pinwheeling. “I’m not making any assumptions!”

Yibo smirks and shuts Xiao Zhan’s door behind him with his heel. “Fine. Yes, I’m a man.”

“Do you live around here?” Xiao Zhan asks tentatively, then reminds himself he wasn’t going to pry.

“Not exactly,” Yibo hedges. He strides forward into Xiao Zhan’s spare little studio apartment, looking around. He’s still wearing the same white t-shirt and faded, ripped jeans from earlier that day.

“Um…then…” Xiao Zhan tries to put his phone in the non-existent pocket of his sweatpants, clutches it in time to prevent dropping it to the floor, and tries to remember where he put his spare sheets.

Yibo is in the middle of his apartment, turning slowly to give it the once-over, an arm cinched tightly across his chest. Xiao Zhan feels like he ought to locate his jaw and make sure it’s not halfway to the floor. Is this really happening? Is he actually asleep, and dreaming something good came out of his disaster of a day after all?

“I’ll make up the couch for you,” Xiao Zhan says.

Yibo frowns. “Can’t I sleep in the bed?”

Xiao Zhan’s brain screeches to a stop. He blinks at Yibo. Yibo regards him with expectant eyes. “No,” he manages, and says it again more forcefully. “No! I don’t even know you!”

Yibo’s brows raise.

“You can’t just…you can’t sleep with someone you just met!” Xiao Zhan stammers.

There’s a faint smile on Yibo’s face now and Xiao Zhan is turning red. He ignores Yibo and sets to digging up the spare set of sheets; obviously it’s been too long since he changed his bed if he has to think about where they are.

He gets the couch made up. He pats the arm and turns to look at Yibo, who has both arms crossed.

“Is this even long enough to sleep on?” Yibo is dubious.

Xiao Zhan frowns. “Well, no,” he admits. “But if you crook your legs up a little whether you sleep on your side or your back, it’ll be fine.”

Yibo stalks forward, eyeing the couch with extreme displeasure.

“You are not sleeping in my bed with me,” Xiao Zhan says, adamant. “I sleep naked.” That last bit slips out, because it’s late and he’s tired, but he’s also thinking on some level it will be an effective deterrent.

Now Yibo is looking at him, sizing him up. “Why would that be a problem?” His tongue is very pink when it touches his full lower lip.

Xiao Zhan’s brain is nothing but white noise for what feels like forever but is probably only a minute or less. “Goodnight, Yibo,” he says, and heads for the far corner where his bed is located. This would be a lot more decisive if he was in a regular flat with doors that can be shut. And locked. He climbs into bed and sets his phone on the nightstand. He turns his back so that he won’t have to watch what Yibo does next, and obsess endlessly over it.

After Yibo flips the light off and rustling sheet noises reach his ears, Xiao Zhan reaches down and strips out of his sweatpants, but leaves them on the bed beside him. Hopefully he’ll remember to put them on after he wakes instead of rolling out of bed naked.

He’s mortally certain he’s going to be up another hour or more obsessing and stressing over this latest strange development. Which is why, of course, he falls into an immediate and deep sleep.

~*~*~

Daylight is a harsh golden slap to the face at what feels like shortly after dawn, even if it’s around six. Xiao Zhan has been trying to convince himself for years that five to six hours is enough sleep, but his body still hasn’t bought it. He cracks his eyes open with a groan and stares in confusion at his sweatpants lying on the pillow next to his face.

With a startled intake of breath, he rolls in bed to grab for the phone off his nightstand and yelps as he looks straight into a pair of deep teak-brown eyes.

“Yo,” Yibo says, unruffled by Xiao Zhan’s undignified noises. He’s sitting next to Xiao Zhan’s bed, knees drawn up, arms draped around his ripped jeans.

Xiao Zhan fumbles for his sweatpants. They’re a lot harder to get on under the sheet than they were to take off.

“I don’t care if you’re naked,” Yibo says, brow furrowing. He cocks his head to the side.

“I care!” Xiao Zhan tries very hard not to screech. “What are you doing sitting next to my bed? There’s nothing to do but stare at the back of my head.” Doesn’t Yibo have his own phone to play with?

“You move in your sleep,” Yibo says, and that confuses Xiao Zhan for all of a second before he continues, “You were on your other side, earlier. So I was watching your face.”

Xiao Zhan senses he’s being made fun of and peels back the covers, snatching his phone up and heading for the bathroom. He stops and turns when he realizes Yibo is following him.

“What are you doing?” he demands, incredulous.

“Following you,” Yibo replies, nonchalant about it. “Do you have anything to eat?”

Xiao Zhan sighs and scrubs his face with a hand. He’s down to his last egg and almost his last cupful of rice. A fresh batch of congee would take an hour anyhow, and he’s starving now. “Let me pee and clean up and we can go get something, okay?”

Yibo folds his arms, observing Xiao Zhan like he suspects he’s going to vanish from the apartment the second he shuts the bathroom door. “All right.”

 _Where did this kid even come from?_ Xiao Zhan is half exasperated but the rest of him is full of wonder. Yibo is deeply weird but just beautiful enough that’s probably how he’s been getting away with it without someone correcting his behavior.

Something tells him Yibo wouldn’t care about someone trying to correct him, anyhow.

He gets ready and retreats to his corner of the bedroom where his racks of clothing line the wall. There is no closet, no separate room for him to retreat to in the studio. He ends up taking his clothes back to the bathroom to change.

When Xiao Zhan emerges at last, fully dressed, Yibo is on the arm of the couch playing with a sleek black phone. It looks identical to Xiao Zhan’s, which is in his pocket now, so he can see how the mistake was made. Yibo stands up and slips his phone into his jeans with an expectant look.

“I assume I’m paying,” Xiao Zhan says, already braced for it.

“Do I look like I have money?” Yibo replies, cheeky.

Xiao Zhan suppresses a sigh with a tight smile. He let himself in for that one.

They pick up tea and steamed buns and walk to the park, a scant couple of blocks away from Xiao Zhan’s flat. Yibo leads them to a bench near the water and they sit side by side as Xiao Zhan tries to find an angle that won’t put the hard glint of the sunlight off the lake’s surface in his eyes. He passes Yibo’s share of the steamed buns over, fusses with his tea, and turns back to the most inelegant sight.

Yibo has shoved the entire bun in his mouth. His left cheek bulges to the side.

“What,” he says indistinctly, catching Xiao Zhan’s horrified look.

“That’s a lot,” is all Xiao Zhan can say.

It takes two minutes or more for Yibo to chew and swallow. “Yeah, I can fit a lot in my mouth.”

Xiao Zhan’s gaze snaps to Yibo and he examines him for a hint of a smirk, but there is none.

Once they’ve polished off their steamed buns and tea and disposed of their waste in the nearby trash, Xiao Zhan surveys the lay of the park and tries to remember where they collided the day before. “Can you tell me what we’re looking for?” he asks. “So that I can be more helpful?”

Yibo looks shifty.

Xiao Zhan frowns. It must be really valuable, if Yibo doesn’t even want to tell him what he’s lost. “Is it a money clip?”

Yibo huffs and folds his arms. “No.”

Xiao Zhan doesn’t even want to speculate how this beautiful young man ended up in the park, alone with no money. “Wait…how old are you,” he asks. Is he truant from a local school?

Yibo frowns at him. “Twenty-three; why?”

Part of Xiao Zhan relaxes. He can’t be a runaway, then. 

Yibo is watching him closely. “It bothered you that I might be younger?”

“No,” Xiao Zhan is quick to say. “Just making sure you’re not a delinquent.”

Now Yibo smirks. “Who says I’m not?”

Xiao Zhan has to put his head to the side and concede the point. “Can you tell me in the most general terms what we’re looking for, at least?”

Yibo goes tight-lipped and he looks across the park. He becomes more compact somehow, his lean body folding into a rail-thin line. He glances back at Xiao Zhan. “Jewelry,” he finally allows.

“Oh,” Xiao Zhan says. He grimaces. “So it might be lost in the grass.”

Eyes dark and watchful, Yibo replies with a slow nod.

“You thought the jogger tore your jewelry off you and did a runner?” Xiao Zhan guesses, remembering how fast Yibo scrambled up after they were both knocked to the grass. He took off swifter than Xiao Zhan has ever seen anyone run, like he could take flight if he churned his long legs fast enough.

“Yeah,” Yibo says uncomfortably.

Probably diamonds, Xiao Zhan thinks. Something really valuable. “Is it an heirloom?”

“Something like that,” Yibo allows, and there’s such discomfort on his face Xiao Zhan’s stomach twists. “And I…I can’t go home without it.”

Whatever it is, it’s probably so valuable Yibo feels like he can’t show his face as long as it’s lost, so Xiao Zhan will help him out. He looks at Yibo’s tense posture and a wave of tenderness overcomes him. He can’t let this beautiful boy go off on his own and risk someone else taking advantage of him in exchange for a place to stay.

“You can stay at my place,” Xiao Zhan offers. “Until you find it.”

Yibo’s head snaps up and he looks at him, eyes narrow with suspicion again.

“My place isn’t much, and I’m definitely on a shoestring budget where food is concerned, but it’s not like you can sleep in the park, right?” Xiao Zhan continues. He sets off along the asphalt path in search of the site they collided yesterday.

After a long pause, Yibo says, low and wary, “…Thank you.”

Xiao Zhan smiles over his shoulder. “I’m sure it’s partly my responsibility,” he says. “After all, if we hadn’t run into one another so hard, whatever you lost might not have gone flying, right?”

He has to look away when Yibo’s very pink tongue touches his lip. “Right,” Yibo says. With a skip, he catches up to Xiao Zhan’s pace and matches it. “Are you always this nice?”

Xiao Zhan laughs, caught off guard. “What? I’m just helping out.”

“Yeah, and most people would tell me to take a hike,” Yibo replied. “You’re taking time out of your day to help.”

Xiao Zhan shrugged. “’Cause it’s the right thing to do.”

Yibo says nothing to that.

The place of impact is easily recognizable once they reach it; there are still two flattened areas of grass, since it hasn’t rained and the landscapers only mow the grass every other week. Xiao Zhan kneels, not caring about the pair of ratty jeans that he pulled on earlier, and begins combing through the grass with his fingers, searching for diamonds or silver, something small and sparkling.

He widens his radius beyond the area where they flattened the grass, thinking if it’s small and light, maybe it flew out a long way. He even turns on his phone flashlight setting, thinking it will help catch the sparkle of a piece of jewelry on the ground. Yibo is sifting through the grass with equal care, looking ready to pull up individual blades of grass if need be.

“Hey, are we looking for earrings, or a necklace?” Xiao Zhan calls after a while. He really wants a better idea of what he’s looking for.

There’s a beat of hesitation.

Xiao Zhan wonders if Yibo thinks he’ll pocket it if he finds it. He’s dirt poor right now, it’s true; but he also has his pride. If he found someone’s wallet on the ground, he’d return it with all the money and refuse a finder’s fee. He sits up and looks across the grass between them to tell that to Yibo.

“It’s a necklace,” Yibo admits, his hand going up to his throat. 

Xiao Zhan’s gaze gets stuck on his fingers. He has beautifully shaped hands; Xiao Zhan is always noticing such things. Not only because he’s an artist, but because he likes men as much as women. Yibo almost straddles the line and Xiao Zhan wonders if that’s why he feels the most powerful pull toward him that he’s ever experienced.

“All right,” Xiao Zhan says agreeably, turning his attention back to the grass. At least it’s not a pair of earrings, he thinks. They would be here forever. A crow could have carried them off by now. He inhales, looking around the park with suspicion. Is it possible that’s what’s happened?

“You know, there’s crows in the park—” he begins.

“They wouldn’t take this,” Yibo says with full confidence.

“How could you know that?” Xiao Zhan asks curiously.

There’s no answer.

Xiao Zhan sighs and goes back to sifting through the grass. Five minutes turns to ten, and ten to twenty. When they’ve been searching the grass for thirty minutes, and Xiao Zhan has expanded his search radius twice, he begins to despair.

“What if someone already walked by and plucked it off the grass?” he calls to Yibo. “The jewelry doesn’t have an RFID chip, does it?”

“No,” Yibo says shortly. He’s looking very cranky.

“I hate to say this,” Xiao Zhan puts forth. He really is sorry. “I don’t think it’s here.”

Yibo purses his lips.

“And I have to go back and grab my things, I have a pitch to deliver,” Xiao Zhan says, apologetic about it.

“It’s fine,” Yibo says. “I’ll stay here.”

“Are you sure?” Xiao Zhan feels even worse thinking of leaving Yibo here sorting through blades of grass trying to find his missing heirloom.

“I can’t keep you from something,” Yibo says plainly.

Xiao Zhan nods, getting up and dusting his knees off. “Then…I’ll drop by the park after my pitch, all right? I’ll come back for you.”

Yibo tilts his head and regards him for a while, face unreadable. At last he lifts his chin and nods. “I’ll see you.” He sounds…lonely, in a way. Like he doesn’t expect Xiao Zhan to make good on his word and come back.

Xiao Zhan gives him a helpless smile and hurries off.

He has just enough time to return home, sponge off the sweat, scramble into a change of clothes, and grab his replenished art portfolio before heading out the door. He cuts through the park again on his way to the environmental firm and he can make out the solitary figure of Yibo in the distance. He’s near the water. His pale hair catches the sun, which turns it into a molten-gold halo.

For a second, Xiao Zhan is taken with the urge to abandon the pitch and go to him. He gives himself a mental shake and hurries along the path, but he does keep an eye out on the ground for the length of the park.

The firm keeps him waiting ten or so minutes when he gets there, then he gets ushered back to the conference room for his third pitch. He wonders if the delay is indicative of their decreasing confidence in him.

For this pitch he’s focused on evoking the wings of waterfowl stretched out in flight, sweeping against a blue surface reminiscent of the lake’s jewel tones. Ripples spread outward from the tips of some of the feathers. He’s colored and shaded a few sparkling droplets for contrast. He did several different versions and a few angles, and one design even has a long, slender neck and the hint of a beak and head.

Even before he starts going over the design points, half the room is nodding. Once he’s gone through the entire pitch, the board room is gazing at him with open approval and Xiao Zhan is flushed, trying to keep his smiles under control.

“This is exactly what we had in mind when we contacted you to solicit your work,” the chairman said, looking around the conference table and receiving nods of support. “Folks, I think this is it. This is the concept we’ll be going with.”

A murmur of relief goes around the table.

Xiao Zhan began to collect his concepts to slip back into his portfolio. “Thank you,” he says, bowing his head. “Thanks very much for this opportunity.”

“Speak to my assistant on your way out and she’ll get you the final contract to look over and sign,” the chairman says. It’s a clear dismissal.

Xiao Zhan bows again and backs out of the room.

The grin spreads over his face as he allows himself a second to collect himself and revel in the success. He’s closed his first contract! He has an official client! He’s got a lot of work ahead of him, but this is going to be a decent hit of money and hopefully it will see him through to more work, and possibly referrals.

The assistant hands him a folder of paperwork and advises him to look at it before signing, which he has every intention of doing. He can’t afford legal help yet, but he knows enough to look at all of the fine print and make sure his own rights are being protected. There are also some forums where he can check with people to make sure he’s not being taken advantage of.

He tries the corner café in the building again to see if they’ve got green tea and today they’ve replenished their stock. He gets two, crosses the street, and carries them into the park with care, portfolio tucked under his arm and eyes wide open for any fast-moving joggers or even bikers who might pose a threat.

As he suspected, Yibo is on the grass again, having returned to the search.

“Hey,” Xiao Zhan says, coming up beside him.

Yibo squints up at him, shading his eyes with a hand. His blond hair is starting to look bedraggled. “Oh,” he says. “You came back.” There’s faint surprise in his voice.

“I said I would, didn’t I?” He sinks into a squat beside Yibo and holds out one of the green teas.

Yibo rolls his lips, face closed off, but he reaches out to take the green tea. 

“Still out here,” Xiao Zhan observes.

“Yeah,” Yibo says, sulky. “Like I said, I can’t go back home without it.”

“You’ve been looking all morning,” Xiao Zhan says. “Why don’t we go back to my place and you can look for it later? Or we can check with the park’s lost and found and see if someone picked it up and turned it in.”

“Yeah,” Yibo repeats, muttering it low enough Xiao Zhan almost doesn’t hear it. He sips at his green tea and stares out over the lake. Xiao Zhan remains beside him, leaning on his thighs and enjoying the moment. Yibo’s eyes snap back to him. “You look happy.” It sounds accusatory.

“Oh! Sorry,” Xiao Zhan says apologetically. “I closed my first deal on a client I was hoping to land. It’s very exciting! And a pretty lucrative contract for someone like me, a brand-new design firm with almost no references.” He had left his previous job on good terms, at least, with glowing letters of recommendation. It wasn’t the same as being an established design name, though.

“Why are you sorry?” Yibo cocks his head. He tips his cup to his mouth and tilts it up, and up, in the weirdest swallow that Xiao Zhan has ever seen someone enact on a paper travel cup. It looks like he’s going for the dregs from a nearly full drink.

“I don’t mean to rub my good fortune in your face when you’re having a bad time,” Xiao Zhan says. He knows it sounds cheesy but he means it.

Yibo waves that away. “Sounds like something worth celebrating.”

“Yeah, it is.” Xiao Zhan bends his smile toward the lake. He takes another gulp of his green tea. “Normally I’d invite some friends for drinks tonight.”

“What’s stopping you?”

Xiao Zhan looks over at him. “Well,” he says slowly. “I meant it when I said you can stay at my place until you figure your situation out. It’s not like you can sleep in the park, right?”

Yibo smirks at him. “I could, but you seem to think it’s not advisable.”

“I won’t let you,” Xiao Zhan replies. He gives Yibo a firm nod. “But I don’t want to leave you home while I go out celebrating, so…”

Yibo shrugs. “I can come with you.”

And now Xiao Zhan has neatly led himself into the trap himself, because who will pay for Yibo’s drinks but him? He sighs. He wonders if Yibo realizes what this will look like—bringing him out to a bar, paying for him. He wishes he could properly ask him out, at least.

“All right,” he says, with a hint of a mischievous grin. “Yibo, will you go out with me tonight?”

Yibo’s brow creases. “I already said I would.” He looks confused.

Xiao Zhan blinks. Maybe he wasn’t clear enough. He shakes his head a little. No, it’s more likely that Yibo was letting him off nicely.

“Then, back to my place,” he decides, patting his thigh before getting up with a small groan. His hamstrings are complaining that he was down for so long.

Yibo rises to his feet with a gracefulness that would be annoying if he wasn’t so damned pretty. Xiao Zhan doesn’t even bother not to admire him openly.

“Hey,” he says as they head back up along the path.

“Hmm?” Xiao Zhan turns inquisitive eyes on him.

“Congratulations,” Yibo says, holding out a fist.

Xiao Zhan gives him a huge, delighted grin. “Thanks!” He forms a fist and bumps his knuckles gently against Yibo’s.

A spark goes up his arm and he gasps softly. It’s like a static shock, that’s the closest thing he can compare it to, but it spreads outward through him like a warm, pleasant ripple. His eyes fly up to Yibo’s to see if he’s experienced the same thing, and Yibo’s plush mouth is pursed. His eyes meet Xiao Zhan’s in an opaque stare.

 _What does it mean_ , Xiao Zhan wants to ask, but something holds him back from saying it.

~*~*~

His favorite bar is a bus and a rail line ride away, but Xuan Lu lives nearby and she’s happy to give him a ride. She doesn’t blink an eye when two rangy, tall boys slide into the back seat of her little car. Meng Ziyi is in the front seat already, applying dark red lipstick in the flip-down mirror.

“Congratulations,” Xuan Lu tells him warmly. “See, I told you that you’d get a client sooner or later.”

“Thankfully, sooner,” Meng Ziyi puts in. “I wasn’t looking forward to you crashing on our couch.”

“I wouldn’t have!” Xiao Zhan replies indignantly. 

“Who’s this?” Meng Ziyi asks, craning her head over the seat.

“I’m Yibo,” Yibo replies, leaning in toward Xiao Zhan. Even though it’s a small car, there’s space between them, and Yibo closes most of that distance as he puts his hand down right next to Xiao Zhan’s thigh. He’s almost shoulder to shoulder with him.

“Just Yibo?” Now Xuan Lu has her eyes on him in the rearview mirror.

“Yes,” Yibo says after a beat. He turns his head and looks at Xiao Zhan, a faint frown settling on his features. 

Xiao Zhan gives him a reassuring smile and bumps his shoulders against his.

Yibo seems to take this as an invitation. He shifts closer across the bench seat and presses against him.

Xiao Zhan’s brows raise. Maybe Yibo understood that he was asking him out for real, after all.

The car ride makes an interminable journey much shorter and before long they’re all seated around a table with Wang Zhuocheng, Yu Bin, and Ji Li; all the friends that Xiao Zhan could rustle up at short notice. He’d invited a few others but they all had plans or couldn’t risk drinking on a week night.

When Yu Bin sits down next to Xiao Zhan, Yibo drags his chair so close to Xiao Zhan’s it puts them thigh to thigh. That electric twinge zips through him again.

“Um. Hi,” Xiao Zhan says, turning his head and finding himself face to face with Yibo. He presses his lips together in a quick, nervous gesture. He’d ordered a pitcher for the table but it hadn’t even arrived yet.

“Hi,” Yibo replies, straightforward. He leans in, draping his wrist on Xiao Zhan’s shoulder.

 _Act natural_ , Xiao Zhan admonishes himself, while the rest of his mind screams at him that a gorgeous guy is actually seeming interested in him. He looks up in time to see the waitress heading their way with double handfuls of mugs and Yu Bin wiping a smirk off his face. Xiao Zhan gives him a warning look.

Yibo leans on his shoulder when he stretches a hand out for his mug.

 _He smells good,_ Xiao Zhan thinks forlornly.

Maybe this is because he’d agreed to pay for drinks. Which reminds him. “I’m only buying the first round,” he warns the group. “To celebrate landing my first contract. I can’t afford to quench all of you thirsty bitches.”

Yibo makes a low noise beside him.

Xiao Zhan pats his thigh. “Don’t worry. I’m covering for you,” he says. He grabs his own mug quickly before he can do something regrettable.

He can sense Yu Bin’s amusement.

“Tell us about your contract!” Xuan Lu urges. 

Xiao Zhan is happy to launch into the story.

They don’t drink much. It’s a week night, after all. They work their way through a pitcher, then everyone splits off into individual tabs and drinks. Somehow, no one’s quizzing Yibo on who he is or where he came from. Every time someone so much as looks at Yibo, he deflects with questions about themselves.

He does speak up, though, when Wang Zhuocheng complains that his flat has a bad case of house Fae stealing his earbuds and it’s getting expensive to buy a new pair every time.

“Put out a bowl of milk by the door,” Yibo says in his low, mild voice.

Everyone looks at him. He is unruffled by the attention.

“Isn’t that an old wives’ tale?” Wang Zhuocheng asks.

“No,” Yibo says, and doesn’t elaborate further. He does add, “It has to be milk. Real milk, not soy.”

“Thanks, I…I’ll try that,” Zhuocheng says. If he looks slightly disconcerted, no one teases him about it.

Xiao Zhan lounges against the back of his chair and regards Yibo’s profile, thoughtful. It’s good to know he’s not the only one who’s been so affected by Yibo’s almost otherworldly beauty.

The evening passes in a pleasant haze and mostly what Xiao Zhan remembers is Yibo’s arm going around his shoulders when Yu Bin leaned toward him to ask a question. He thinks Yibo made some kind of noise, then; it sticks out because it pulled a low tingle in his belly. When Yu Bin sat up properly, looking satisfied, Yibo had pulled him closer into his side and warmth went through Xiao Zhan.

 _I’ve barely met you_ , Xiao Zhan should have said. He should have straightened up, put some space between them. But he can’t deny he’s felt an instant attraction to Yibo and…for some reason, it seems Yibo might like him, too.

“Be safe, boys!” Meng Ziyi says coyly, wriggling her fingers at them as Yibo helps Xiao Zhan out of the car. 

Really, Xiao Zhan is grateful he’s there. He’s not sure what he’d do without his help right then. His drunken mind is not sure what Meng Ziyi is implying, but Yibo does manage to get them safely up the flights of stairs it takes to get them back to his studio apartment.

Xiao Zhan remembers to get his contacts out and his teeth brushed. He’s scrounged up a spare toothbrush for Yibo to use. He stands next to his bed, looks at it, and looks over his shoulder at Yibo, who is still in the same white t-shirt and ripped jeans from the day before. He tries to remember what he’s doing.

“Zhan-ge really can’t hold his alcohol,” Yibo says, sounding oddly…fond?

Xiao Zhan is having trouble figuring out a lot of things right then. He puts his head to one side and bites his lip. “I’m going to bed,” he decides. He switched to water near the end of the evening, so he figures he’ll be okay.

“All right,” Yibo says.

Xiao Zhan stares down at his bed. He climbs in and gets under the covers. After an embarrassingly long interval of trying to get comfortable and failing, he realizes he’s still wearing clothes.

“Ugh,” he says aloud, but he’s too tired and head-swimmy to bother with it. In the distance, he hears Yibo’s gentle laugh, but it doesn’t sound mocking. He puts his head on the pillow.

It doesn’t take long before he’s asleep.

~*~*~

Xiao Zhan wakes up in the middle of the night with a pounding head and a ferocious urge to pee. He climbs out of bed, pats himself down and tries to figure out why he’s still wearing clothes, then gravitates toward his couch. He can see a pair of long, bare feet sticking up over the edge and ruffles his hair as he remembers Yibo, the dim light of the bar, Yu Bin’s smirking face as an arm pulls Xiao Zhan possessively close. The magnetic crackle that went through him when Yibo’s broad hand touched the back of his neck.

“Holy shit,” Xiao Zhan mouths. 

He decides not to mess with taking his clothes off in case Yibo wakes and walks with care toward the bathroom, the one enclosed space in his studio. He doesn’t want to risk waking Yibo up.

He cracks open the door, eases it shut behind him, and flips on the light.

Xiao Zhan does a full body startle, arms flying up in front of his face.

There’s a swan in the bathtub.

He stares at it and holds very still.

The swan angles its head and pins him with one beady black eye.

Xiao Zhan tries to remember what he knows about swans and can only dredge up two facts: they mate for life, and they are the most hostile and aggressive avians in existence, aside perhaps from emus.

Didn’t emus win a war somewhere?

“I don’t have to pee that bad,” he decides.

He puts his hand on the doorknob and turns it slowly. The swan’s head dips; it’s clearly tracking his movements. He backs out slowly and shuts the door. He has no idea how he’s going to get rid of the swan in the morning and wonders if he can make that someone else’s problem.

He walks over to the couch where Yibo is snuggled up under the sheet. Even in the darkness, Yibo seems to be sleeping peacefully, his face unlined and free of scowls or frowns. Xiao Zhan doesn’t have the heart to wake him.

Not even the need to deal with an inexplicable rogue swan seems compelling enough a reason to disturb such sweet peacefulness.

He goes back to bed, strips down, and climbs in. He’ll deal with it later.

The next time he wakes, the sun is shining in his face and he has to pee so bad he thinks he’s going to die. He rolls over, snags his robe, and heads for the bathroom before he remembers.

Yibo is sitting on the couch, phone in hand, his messy blond hair of the night before restored to sleek straight order that frames his oval face. He glances up at Xiao Zhan as he shuffles past.

“Good morning,” he says, sounding amused. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine—oh.” Xiao Zhan rubs at his head. “So, about the swan in the tub?”

Yibo’s dark brows rise. “What swan?”

Xiao Zhan blinks at him. He begins to gesture, turns, and strides to the bathroom with hurried steps. He _really_ does have to pee. If he doesn’t find an outlet for it soon, he might die of it.

He flicks the light on. There is no swan in the tub.

Xiao Zhan inhales.

“Okay,” he says. He nods. He tiptoes into the bathroom and shuts the door behind him, hurrying to the toilet to relieve himself.

He glances at the tub sidelong. It’s still empty. He’s sure he didn’t imagine it…then again, he did have a bit too much to drink the night before. He washes his hands and puts them over his flaming face.

Aiyoh, now he has to leave the bathroom and he embarrassed himself last night with Yibo.

Oh no…what if all his friends think this is his new boyfriend? He didn’t introduce Yibo as his boyfriend, but given the way they were practically in each other’s laps, anyone could be forgiven for making that assumption.

He’s also got to figure out the clothes situation. He’s not so loaded that he can buy Yibo a new wardrobe, but he can definitely loan out some of his clothes—he thinks they’re around the same size, although he’s got a bit of a height advantage over Yibo.

First, though, he’s got to muster the courage to open that door.

His stomach growls.

Xiao Zhan sighs and looks down toward his betrayer.

“Zhan-ge?” From outside the door, Yibo sounds concerned. And nearby.

“Be right out!” Xiao Zhan wipes his hands on the towel hanging from the rack and checks the tub surreptitiously one last time. It’s still swan-free.

“I’m hungry,” Yibo calls mournfully.

“Oh. Be right there!”

Hunger is, after all, the universal motivator.

“Hey,” Xiao Zhan says, coming up short against Yibo right outside his bathroom door. He blinks.

“Hey,” Yibo says and puts an arm around Xiao Zhan’s neck. He repeats, “I’m hungry.”

 _This is new, the touching_ , Xiao Zhan thinks and tries not to over-analyze it. “Okay, yeah; we can go out…we need to figure out something about clothes, though. I can’t exactly spring for a wardrobe replacement, but—”

“That’s fine; I have money now,” Yibo interrupts. He steers Xiao Zhan away from the bathroom door.

“You…you do?” Xiao Zhan tries to remember where his own wallet is. He hopes it’s in the blown-glass bowl beside the door with his keys. “How? When?”

Yibo shrugs and the movement ripples through Xiao Zhan’s shoulder. He’s torn between pushing Yibo away at the shudder it sends down his spine and pulling him closer. “My cousin.”

Xiao Zhan’s brows raise. He supposes they must have sent it online; very nice of a cousin, especially if the parents won’t step in. That makes him realize he doesn’t even know if Yibo has parents, actually. Perhaps he’s avoiding them so he doesn’t have to tell them what he’s lost?

“She also said something about giving you some of it for rent?” Yibo’s face is so close to his. His face in the morning light is beautiful enough to inspire heartbreak.

At least, Xiao Zhan’s chest is aching. If Yibo puts his tongue to his lower lip right now, he doesn’t know if he can consider himself responsible for what he’ll do.

He focuses in on the way Yibo said ‘rent,’ dubious, like he’s not even sure he should be offering. Or he’s not sure what the word means.

Xiao Zhan smiles and takes pity on him. “Don’t worry about that,” he replies. “You don’t owe me any money for staying here.”

“Oh.” Uncertainty flickers over Yibo’s face but a mask of indifference shutters down in the next heartbeat, closing him off from further expression.

“Let’s get you into a change of clothes,” Xiao Zhan suggests and Yibo nods, pulling his arm from around Xiao Zhan’s neck. The lack of contact now is a shock in the way that sudden touches were yesterday, but he keeps it off his face, he hopes. “You can wear something of mine to go out and we can pick you up some stuff before we go to the coffee shop, how does that sound?”

“I don’t like coffee,” Yibo deadpans.

Xiao Zhan gives him a brief smile. “They’ll have tea, too. But my friend likes coffee.” He pulls his phone and checks it. He’d texted Liu Haikuan the day before, hoping to get a second eye on the legal contract before he signs it. One of his texts from this morning had been a notification from Haikuan confirming it and Xiao Zhan had suggested a coffee shop across from the lakeside park.

Yibo’s eyes narrow. “Your friend?”

“Mn, Haikuan agreed to go over this contract for me so I’m buying him coffee as a favor.” Xiao Zhan sticks his phone back in his pocket. Haikuan agreed and suggested a time that gives them just enough to have a brief stop at a thrift shop or boutique to pick up some clothes, depending on Yibo’s budget.

Now Yibo’s eyes look positively flinty. “You buy _me_ things,” he grumbles. His pink mouth pushes out in a pout.

Xiao Zhan flashes him a little grin. He could tease Yibo about that, he thinks. Right now, he wants to see him in some of his clothes.

And he’s not going to think about the stirrings in his belly _that_ prospect gives him.

He lays out a few outfits but Yibo is the one who chooses one. A tight, proprietary feeling settles into his ribcage when Yibo pulls on Xiao Zhan’s over-sized black and white striped sweater. He’s wearing a pair of Xiao Zhan’s boxer briefs and older, faded blue jeans that bag around his ankles so he has to roll the cuffs up. Xiao Zhan can’t stop looking at him as they head out of his flat.

He wants to reach over and touch him. His fingers itch to touch that wing of pale blond hair, flat and shiny, behind Yibo’s ear.

He has a feeling Yibo will welcome that touch with a coy smile.

By the time there’s a couple of armloads of clothes picked out at the boutique, they’re running up against the hour that Xiao Zhan had set with Liu Haikuan. He reminds Yibo that the coffee shop is only two doors down and asks him if he doesn’t mind meeting up there after he settles accounts.

Yibo looks torn between checking out on the spot or dropping all his clothes and following him.

“It’s only two doors down,” Xiao Zhan soothes.

He must be weak to the fact that Yibo is dressed in his own clothes, he thinks, resolutely not contemplating the twinge that the sheer outrage on Yibo’s face sends through him.

“Fine,” Yibo says, turning his back on him.

“Really? You’re sure you’ll be okay?” Xiao Zhan presses.

“Wait,” Yibo says. He dumps everything down on a low black bench. He strides up to Xiao Zhan, dips his hand into Xiao Zhan’s jeans pocket—which he holds very still for—and pulls his phone out. Yibo purses his lips at the phone and types something in before shoving it at him unceremoniously and turning back to his selection of clothing.

It seems like Yibo is planning to be away from home for more than a few more nights, based on how much he’s buying.

It’s only when Xiao Zhan is out the boutique door and two doors down that he realizes not only did Yibo add himself as a contact, he’d taken a picture of himself on the spot. It’s that pouty selfie.

“This kid is going to kill me,” Xiao Zhan groans. He tries not to think about how Yibo is definitely not a kid regardless of how soft and beautiful he looks.

He slides into the coffee shop with under a minute to spare from the time he’s given Haikuan; he hates making someone wait for him, and it puts him under an even deeper sense of obligation when it’s a favor someone is doing for his benefit.

“Sorry!” Xiao Zhan pants, bowing before he slides into the seat across from Haikuan. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you wait.” Of course Haikuan was here early; that’s the kind of guy he is.

Haikuan gives him a bemused smile. “Don’t worry about it.”

“You’re too kind,” Xiao Zhan says, shaking his head. “Can I get you a coffee?” He sets the folder containing his contract on the table, but keeps his hands on it.

“That’s not necessary,” Haikuan says. “Really, you don’t have to.”

“Oh, I insist,” Xiao Zhan replies, eyes crinkling as he unleashes the full devastation of his smile. “Please. You’re doing me a favor.”

“Ahh, I feel bad, though,” Haikuan hedges.

Xiao Zhan pops back up from the table, pressing his hands together. “It’s fine! I’m getting it now.”

Haikuan grins in response and bows his head. Xiao Zhan is relieved that their polite-off has only survived a few rounds this time. He steps up to the counter and orders a couple of green teas and the strong flat white coffee that Haikuan prefers. He reminds himself to tease Yibo later that he’s paid for him.

He sighs as he waits for the drinks at the end of the counter. Yibo. What’s he going to do with him?

By the time he resumes his seat and slides the flat white across the table, Haikuan is already browsing through the contract. He smiles and keeps quiet, cradling the two green teas close to him.

“Zhan-ge,” a sing-song voice comes from behind him. A couple of bags thud to the floor next to his chair before a pair of arms loop around him and a sharp chin settles on his shoulder. “Did you miss me?”

Xiao Zhan gives a tiny start and his hand flies up to his throat where one of Yibo’s hands was draped. “Yibo,” he breathes, fingers resting over Yibo’s, and he’s not able to ignore that little charge that goes through him as their skin makes contact. Not anymore. “Hey. I got you some tea.”

Yibo, once again, drags a chair right next to him and gives him a demure smile that is one hundred percent pretense, Xiao Zhan knows. “Thank you,” he says, reaching for his tea and flicking a glance in Haikuan’s direction at last.

All of a sudden Xiao Zhan is extremely nervous.

Haikuan’s gaze is fixed on the pages he’s flipping through.

Xiao Zhan sips his tea.

Yibo pulls his tea closer and keeps his sharp dark raptor stare on Haikuan.

To break the tension—okay, maybe it’s only his own tension, but that’s stressful enough—Xiao Zhan nudges his foot against Yibo’s ankle. Like a switch has been flipped, Yibo’s expression smooths out into a sunny smile and he turns its force on Xiao Zhan.

Xiao Zhan’s got an arrow through his chest. He’s sure of it.

“Well, this is all fairly standard language,” Haikuan says, looking up and spotting Yibo beside Xiao Zhan. “Oh. Hello. We haven’t met; I’m Haikuan.”

Haikuan inclines his head but doesn’t offer his hand, and Xiao Zhan is a little relieved. He has no idea how Yibo might react to that.

“Yibo,” Yibo introduces himself, and Haikuan’s brows go up.

“I’m not seeing anything that concerns me or would merit referral to counsel,” Haikuan says, shutting the folder and pushing it back across the table toward him. “They’re not trying to take advantage, Xiao Zhan. That speaks well for their company.”

“Great. Thank you for taking a look at it.” Xiao Zhan bobs his head gratefully and gathers it up.

Haikuan nods, sipping at his coffee. “Thank you for the flat white; it’s my favorite.”

“Ah, it’s nothing,” Xiao Zhan demurs. “I just appreciate your taking the time to look at my contract.”

Yibo shifts closer to him, knee pressing against his. Haikuan gives him a once-over.

“I didn’t realize you met someone,” he says mildly. He has an approving little smile on his face.

It’s endlessly amusing to Xiao Zhan that Liu Haikuan is younger than him, but manages to act like his older brother. He supposes it’s because Haikuan actually has younger siblings and he’s in a profession where he’s cultivated his natural air of gravity in order to be taken seriously by older peers.

“Oh, we…” Xiao Zhan begins, turning a hand up to make a deprecating gesture.

“We met a couple of days ago,” Yibo answers for him, grabbing his hand and lacing their fingers together.

Xiao Zhan looks down at those long, fine fingers intertwined with his and tries not to boggle.

“I see,” Haikuan says, sounding confused, which is exactly the emotion Xiao Zhan resonates with right then.

They make small talk, chatting amiably while they finish their drinks. Yibo’s hand remains in his. Xiao Zhan mentions he wants to have another little get-together over the weekend. Haikuan nods and says he’ll keep his calendar clear. This makes Yibo scoot closer and put his entire arm up against Xiao Zhan’s arm for some reason Xiao Zhan can’t fathom.

When they leave, Xiao Zhan tucks his folder into one of Yibo’s bags of clothing which he hefts, because Yibo is not letting him reclaim possession of his other hand. Yibo lifts the remainder of the bags easily as Xiao Zhan bids goodbye to Haikuan, who simply flicks his fingers goodbye and looks extremely amused.

Really, Xiao Zhan should feel more indignant about it, but he’s well aware of the ridiculous picture he presents. At some point Yibo is going to realize it too and that electric-current warmth that goes through him every time their hands meet will be out of his reach.

“We can go look for your necklace again,” Xiao Zhan offers.

Yibo’s hand tenses in his. “No,” he says shortly. “No point.”

“Oh.” Xiao Zhan bites his lip. Does that mean Yibo has given up? “Do you still want to go through the park on the way home, then?”

“Yeah,” Yibo replies.

“Okay,” Xiao Zhan says softly. Their hands swing together as they walk. He steals little glances at Yibo and tries to figure out why this, why now? Yibo was so angry and curt until early evening the day before.

They return to the bench near the water and sit side by side, the shopping bags slumped against the curled iron arms of the bench to either side of them. The back of Xiao Zhan’s hand is pressed against Yibo’s knee under Yibo’s larger hand. He’s still trying to figure out why, because he feels like he’s missed a step on the stair, or perhaps two.

Every so often he glances at Yibo’s profile. The light, teasing lines of his face have shifted into something impassive and remote, but Xiao Zhan still can’t stop looking at him. He’s starting to wonder if Yibo is quite entirely human and he also wonders that it doesn’t bother him to think that he’s not.

“What if I can’t go home?” Yibo asks, looking out across the water. His hand is lax on Xiao Zhan’s. “Would you still let me stay?”

 _Oh,_ Xiao Zhan thinks. He swallows a lump in his throat. Yibo is upset he can’t find his jewelry. He’s probably trying to cozy up to him to make sure he won’t be thrown out. He wants to pull his hand out of Yibo’s, but his fingers are too warm. He’ll keep holding on, if only for a little while. 

“Of course,” Xiao Zhan replies, taking care to keep his voice steady. He’s already offered that much, although he knows they were both thinking short term. “Have you given up on finding your heirloom?”

Yibo hesitates. “Not exactly,” he says. He sounds so despondent.

Xiao Zhan turns to him, his own face pulling into lines of distress. “Oh, Yibo. Come here.” He puts his other arm up and tugs him into a one-sided hug.

To his intense surprise, Yibo pulls him into it, releasing his hand and getting both arms around him. He wraps himself around Xiao Zhan and breathes deep, almost a sigh, head against his.

“Thank you,” Yibo murmurs, almost inaudible.

“It’s what anyone would—”

“No,” Yibo says against his neck, adamant. “It’s not.”

Xiao Zhan huffs. “Well, it’s what anyone should do.”

Yibo stays nestled against his shoulder until the sun goes down past the tree line and the air is beginning to cool.

“It’s all right,” Xiao Zhan says, petting his shoulder. “Come home with me.”

Yibo nods and gathers up all of his clothes bags with both hands. The smile he gives Xiao Zhan is slightly melancholy, but he follows him home.

~*~*~

“Yibo, do you like fish?” Xiao Zhan asks, cracking open the fridge. He’s been able to go shopping again, replenishing all of the basics like eggs and so forth, but he was also able to pick up some meat and fish which he’s very excited about adding back to his diet. He’s only vegetarian by necessity, after all.

Yibo looks up from intense scrutiny of his phone. “Hm? Yeah, I eat fish.”

“I figured I can broil some trout for dinner,” Xiao Zhan says happily.

Yibo gets up from the couch, alarm crossing his face. “You’re going to cook over an open flame?”

Xiao Zhan blinks at his outsized level of concern. “Well, the rice cooker is going to do most of the work. And I use the broiler setting of the oven. A little bit of sauté work in a pan. It’s fine.”

“All right,” Yibo says, subsiding onto the couch with a dubious look.

Xiao Zhan rolls his lips in to smother a laugh.

He’s no great shakes as a cook—he’d never rate as a chef or even mom-level cooking—but he’s been helping his mother in the kitchen since thirteen or so and he was able to keep himself alive throughout college and beyond without resorting to take-out too often. He takes a deep sort of satisfaction in feeding people; it’s always more gratifying for him to putter around the kitchen when he’s making a meal not only for himself but at least one other.

Yibo gets up from the couch to hover nearby; not close enough to get in the way of the cooking process but it’s clear he’s keeping an eye on the proceedings. Every so often Xiao Zhan catches his gaze and gives him a reassuring smile. He realizes he thinks it’s sweet that Yibo is so concerned. It’s like he’s never seen someone cook before.

They sit down together on the couch and Yibo settles himself close enough to have the knee of his crossed legs against Xiao Zhan’s thigh. Because it’s a studio apartment, Xiao Zhan never bothered to get a dining table. He always eats on the couch. His television across the way is propped on an entertainment center made of milk crates.

Yibo hasn’t said anything critical about it, which is reassuring in one way but possibly means his taste needs questioning in another.

He eats Xiao Zhan’s trout over rice; it’s got fresh spring onions, ginger, garlic, soy sauce of course, and a little bit of sesame oil. He makes appreciative noises every so often and Xiao Zhan glows at each evidence of enjoyment. He pays more attention to the way Yibo demolishes it than he does his own eating. He’s the one left with several mouthfuls left to go as Yibo is polishing off his last grains of rice.

“Zhan-ge’s cooking is good,” Yibo says, giving him a thumb’s up and a pleased hum. 

That makes Xiao Zhan duck his head and he hurries to finish his dinner. “Ah, I’m glad,” he manages.

It’s the first time since Yibo has dropped into his life that they have some leisure in the evening to settle down and unwind. He ends up turning the TV on after he does the dishes. Yibo starts to droop in fairly short order, ending up on his shoulder while Xiao Zhan watches a variety program and the news that comes on afterward. He can’t bear to move out from under him and shift him onto the couch like he ought to. Every so often, Yibo’s open mouth releases the sweetest, lightest snore in existence.

Xiao Zhan does keep his hands to himself, though, simply allowing Yibo to use his shoulder as a pillow.

By the time it’s getting late and Xiao Zhan is trying to decide how to extricate himself without disturbing Yibo, he stretches up and uncurls from Xiao Zhan’s shoulder with a wide, jaw-cracking yawn.

Before Xiao Zhan can reach for the remote, Yibo is leaning in again, hooking him close with an arm around his waist, bringing them nose to nose.

“Yibo,” Xiao Zhan breathes, going very still.

When Yibo nudges forward to kiss him, though, his dark eyes still wide and fixed on his, Xiao Zhan is galvanized to action at last. He gives Yibo a gentle push and stands quickly, arms going into a defensive posture across his chest.

“I think it’s time for bed,” Xiao Zhan says, voice thin and high.

Yibo blinks up at him sleepily and frowns.

He wasn’t in his right mind, Xiao Zhan makes the excuse for him. He was waking up from a dream of someone else, surely.

“Zhan-ge,” Yibo says, but before he can say anything more, Xiao Zhan flees to the bathroom.

Behind the safety of the only door in the entire studio flat, Xiao Zhan sits on the closed lid of his toilet with his hands over his face and tries to figure out what the hell is going on. Yibo is breathtaking. At face value he’s everything Xiao Zhan could want in a man, despite the scarcity of personal details he’s disclosed. He’s pretty sure they’d be physically compatible at least, given the powerful yank of attraction that Xiao Zhan experiences every time they make skin contact.

It took an almost super-human effort of will, but he’s managed to keep Yibo at bay for now. 

The issue for him isn’t Yibo itself. He just…he needs a connection, something beyond the physicality of sex.

And he thinks, maybe… Xiao Zhan groans into his splayed hands. He can’t allow himself to think maybe there _is_ the potential for more. As soon as Yibo finds what he’s actually looking for, he’ll be gone.

When he comes back out of the bathroom at last, teeth brushed and red eyes splashed with cold water, Yibo is on the couch still, back facing him. He doesn’t look around when Xiao Zhan retreats to his bed in the corner of the studio. He only lifts one slim hand in acknowledgement when Xiao Zhan tells him goodnight in a tentative voice and clicks the light off.

For once, Xiao Zhan isn’t in the mood to sleep naked. He keeps his sweatpants on.

In the morning, over green tea and soft eggs broken open into congee with fried mushroom and leeks, Yibo stares at his face, unblinking, until Xiao Zhan snaps at last.

“What is it?” he asks quietly, setting his spoon aside.

“Why don’t you want me?” Yibo asks plainly.

Xiao Zhan’s eyes move over his earnest face. He’s memorized every curve already, he thinks. Even when Yibo leaves, his lovely face will be blazoned onto his mind’s eye for long enough to ruin him. He looks away. “Who said I didn’t want you?”

Yibo’s brow furrows. “Yesterday, when I tried to kiss you—”

“I don’t want to have sex with someone without feelings, Yibo,” Xiao Zhan says very gently. He’s not naïve. He knows things wouldn’t have stopped at a kiss, not with the buzz he gets simply from the way their fingers laced together. “I need for there to be love.”

Yibo’s brow clears up. “So if I said I love you, then you would?” The look on his face is that of a person untangling a puzzle.

“Do you love me?” Xiao Zhan asks. He presses his lips together. There’s no way Yibo can possibly say yes; he’s not even sure he can himself, yet. It’s not that it’s too soon—it’s that they don’t know each other well enough.

Yibo tilts his head to the side, bites his lip, and regards him for a long moment. At last, without answering, his eyes flick elsewhere and he digs into his congee again.

~*~*~

The ink on Xiao Zhan’s first contract is dry, the documents have been copied in triplicate—Xiao Zhan thinks he’s going to frame one copy for posterity—and the originals have been hand-delivered to the environmental firm. His client.

He’ll start working on the concepts again tomorrow, resuming his regular work habits and fleshing out the remainder of the brief, but tonight it’s Friday. He’s invited the full crew of his friends to an impromptu dinner celebration at the nearby seafood restaurant that has big private rooms available for large parties. He’s going to pay for some shared appetizers, but he made it clear in advance that he’s not paying for everyone for the night in case anyone’s finances are tight like his have been.

Xiao Zhan is really just happy to be going out with his friends again.

“Come with me to dinner,” Xiao Zhan says to Yibo, who looks like he’s settling in to sulk on the couch all evening. He thinks Yibo went to the park again while he was dropping off his contract, but he can’t be sure. Yibo met him at the corner café of the environmental firm’s building and they got some tea together before Xiao Zhan made a long detour around the park to pick up some cake.

Yibo’s eyes flash up to his. “You want me to?”

“Yes,” Xiao Zhan says forthrightly.

“Then I will,” Yibo says, springing up from the couch with renewed vigor. He rummages through his bags from the boutique and once again Xiao Zhan has to turn around hastily, because Yibo strips down without a hint of self-consciousness.

He taps Xiao Zhan’s shoulder and shows himself off. He’s wearing a velvety gray cardigan that looks so incredibly soft to the touch Xiao Zhan can’t stop himself from reaching out and pinching a fold of it. That’s over a collared white shirt and black skinny jeans. He looks beautiful as always and Xiao Zhan very much wants to reel him in and kiss him.

Because he knows he won’t be able to stop at one, he takes hold of Yibo’s wrist and drags him out of the flat.

“Hey,” Xiao Zhan says, bumping shoulders with him as they wait for a Didi.

Yibo’s head turns. His eyes are limpid in the streetlight. “Hm?”

“Can I buy another one? Whatever it is you lost.”

Yibo ducks his head before giving it an impatient shake. “No, it’s not…it’s not something that can be bought.” He gives him a sidelong glance full of appraisal.

Xiao Zhan gives into his basest impulse and reaches out, tucking a lock of blond hair behind Yibo’s ear. His hair is sleek and fine and even softer than he ever imagined. It feels almost like downy feathers under his fingertips.

Yibo’s eyes flutter. “It’s…been with me…since I was born,” he says unsteadily.

That makes Xiao Zhan think of fine white jade, on a choker or the most delicate silver chain, sitting in the hollow of his throat for decades. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. He bites his lip.

Yibo’s gaze steadies. He’s not smiling, but he doesn’t look melancholy anymore, or sulky either. “Don’t be,” he says.

He reaches over and takes Xiao Zhan’s hand.

This time, Xiao Zhan is braced for the warmth that courses through him as they touch, but it’s no less welcome for that expectation. He laces their fingers together.

Maybe he can be enough, Xiao Zhan thinks. Maybe he’s not misreading his signals.

Half of Xiao Zhan’s friends are already at the restaurant when they arrive, and they all head back into the private room that’s been set up with a long table along the back wall where appetizers and tea already await. Smaller round tables run the length of the room for people to section off into smaller groups.

“Oh, Yibo!” Wang Zhuocheng calls out, gesturing him over. “I wanted to thank you for your advice from the other day.”

Yibo glances at Xiao Zhan first and he gives him a nod. Yibo’s fingers release his with reluctance before he crosses the room.

Before Xiao Zhan can head for the appetizers or grab some tea for them both, a hand is closing around his wrist and drawing him urgently to one side.

He looks down into Yu Bin’s face as his friend pulls him closer to the door they’ve all come through.

“What’s going on?” he asks with a frown.

“I figured it out,” Yu Bin says. “Especially after talking to Haikuan.”

Xiao Zhan cranes his head, but Haikuan hasn’t arrived yet. He waves to Wu Jiacheng and Peng Chuyue from across the room and looks back at Yu Bin, whose petite face is set in the most determined expression he’s ever seen on him.

“Figured out what?” Xiao Zhan asks.

“He’s Fae,” Yu Bin says in a low, almost frightened voice. “You have to cut him loose, Xiao Zhan; what if he hurts you?”

Xiao Zhan reels back a step but Yu Bin keeps a grip on his wrist. “I…I was starting to wonder, but…I guess I didn’t think it was possible for him to be a full blood, you know? What would he be doing here?” _With me_ , he concludes without saying it aloud. He is nothing special.

“It’s hard to say,” Yu Bin says. “Their motives can be unclear. But if he’s trying to ensnare you—”

Xiao Zhan gives him a tight-lipped smile. He doesn’t think there’s any risk of that. Yibo did try to kiss him the night before, but he let Xiao Zhan sleep in his own bed without bothering him. “It’s not like that,” he says instead. He suspects if Yibo turned on the full force of his charm, he’d be unable to resist, but he’s too lowly to warrant such attentions.

“I’m worried about his intentions,” Yu Bin insists.

Xiao Zhan chews on his lower lip and glances inadvertently across the room at Yibo, who is laughing as he says something to Xuan Lu and Wang Zhuocheng. His long, shapely fingers reach up to brush his cornsilk-fine blond hair back, tucking it behind his ear again. As though sensing the attention on him, he looks Xiao Zhan’s way and the laughter drops from his face like a curtain coming down. He bows his head to Xiao Zhan’s friends and makes a beeline across the room to him in a few swift strides.

Yu Bin releases an undignified squeak and lets go of Xiao Zhan’s wrist hastily, backing up a step as Yibo closes in, looming over him and putting a protective arm around Xiao Zhan’s waist.

“Back off,” Yibo sneers in Yu Bin’s face.

Yu Bin goes ghost white and raises his hands. “I wasn’t—I didn’t—”

“He’s mine,” Yibo says clearly, tugging Xiao Zhan closer to his body.

Xiao Zhan goes cold all over like a shock of icy water drenched him and his face fills up with slow heat. He can only stare, astonished, as Yu Bin bends almost in half in a contrite bow before backing away and escaping.

He’s speechless for several unsteady heartbeats and Yibo’s arm tightens around his waist.

“Yibo,” Xiao Zhan murmurs, finding his voice at last. He supposes Yu Bin was right to be worried for him, but he can’t find it in him to be concerned for himself.

The Fae are scarce amongst humankind, either full or part-blooded, and no one wonders why. For all their beauty, it’s a double-edged sword to them, because there’s all too many tales of things ending badly for the Fae despite their power. They’re rare and sought after still; being with one is prestigious and a good number of them have the most coveted ability of all—extending the longevity of their partner to match their own. Yet they also have a reputation for being cruel and toying with humans.

Xiao Zhan has a strange, prickly feeling swirling within him. _It was ever since we first touched,_ he thinks. That’s when Yibo’s attitude toward him changed. “He wasn’t doing anything to me,” he says at last. He pets Yibo’s hand where it’s settled on his waist and focuses on him.

Yibo’s lip is still curled in a snarl as he tracks Yu Bin’s retreat to the far end of the room. He’s hiding behind Song Jiyang and Li Bowen now. When Yibo turns his attention back to Xiao Zhan, his face softens at once. “I didn’t like the look of him,” he says. 

“We were just talking,” Xiao Zhan protests, but it’s weak and he knows it. They were talking about Yibo and Yu Bin was afraid for him.

And if Yibo truly is Fae in any part, Xiao Zhan can understand why. He’s not afraid, though. He feels deep in his bones that Yibo isn’t cruel.

That doesn’t mean he won’t hurt him.

Yibo’s other hand comes up beneath his chin. Fingers frame his jaw. “Then, I didn’t like that look he put on your face,” he says and Xiao Zhan closes his eyes. He can hardly argue that.

“It’s all right,” Xiao Zhan says finally. “Really, Yibo, he’s not a threat to you.” He’s able to turn a teasing grin on Yibo, who draws himself up, the height of pique.

“Then, he was standing too close to you,” Yibo insists.

“Says who?” Xiao Zhan replies, raising a brow.

“Me,” Yibo says. His tone is cheeky now. “Are you hungry? These appetizers look good. Come on, I’ll feed you some dumplings.”

Xiao Zhan lets himself be drawn along.

He takes note of a few things as they browse. Yibo doesn’t mind feeding Xiao Zhan chicken dumplings, but he sticks to the vegetable ones for himself. He stays away from spicy foods. He tries out the garlic frog legs and he likes them, but he won’t eat anything with beef or fowl. A simple clear tofu soup is acceptable.

Most of the evening is spent in the circle of Yibo’s arm. When Xiao Zhan actually leaves that half embrace, Yibo’s hand hovers near, cupping his elbow, or hanging off his shoulder, or drawing fingers so delicately along his nape Xiao Zhan has to suppress a shiver. They split a plate of appetizers and Yibo sits beside him with a simple steamed fish entrée while Xiao Zhan indulges in a Hunan beef dish that he hasn’t been able to afford in months. He rations himself to one beer and sits with Yibo’s arm around him, feeling like he’s sparkling as he responds to a joke from Ji Li or laughs at an outlandish anecdote of Zhao Lei’s.

There are eyes on him at all times during the evening and Xiao Zhan notes it. Most of his friends seem amused or subtly pleased. Yu Bin avoids his eyes for the rest of the night, though Xiao Zhan catches him staring at Yibo a couple of times. When Liu Haikuan arrives, he looks like he wants to say something, but he never catches any time alone with him because Yibo never leaves his side.

No one asks Xiao Zhan about his relationship status, which is what he’s half braced for during most of the evening. He knows the conspicuous silence means he’s going to either get bombarded in the group chat later or someone like Xuan Lu will be dispatched as an emissary to sound him out and give him the opportunity to self-disclose to their friend group.

Xiao Zhan meets Yibo’s eyes. They’re dark and gleaming and always on him when he turns his head. He matches Yibo’s smiles, which are freely given tonight and send warmth clear through him when Yibo’s eyes crinkle into pleased half-moons.

He doesn’t know what their relationship status is, but Yibo called him ‘mine.’

When they go to settle accounts at the end of the night, Yibo’s hand is faster, flashing out and extending his phone when the waitress comes by to each of them.

“I’m paying for him,” Yibo says. 

Xiao Zhan subsides into his chair with a flush that can’t be entirely attributed to the single beer he’s had. “Yibo, you don’t have to,” he murmurs.

Yibo flashes him an adamant smile. “It’s your celebration; you shouldn’t have to pay.”

As they’re dispersing, Haikuan is in the queue behind them. He pinches discreet fingers on Xiao Zhan’s sleeve, the arm that’s opposite of the solid warm line of Yibo against him. Xiao Zhan turns his head.

“Be careful,” Haikuan says, eyes watchful and mouth solemn.

Xiao Zhan can only nod as Yibo scowls and tugs him away, drawing him down the street and tangling their hands together.

 _It’s too late for that,_ he thinks, but his heart is calm.

~*~*~

Even though he’s had water and he ate on a full stomach, he crashes shortly after they reach home. He’s sleepy. He disengages from Yibo and strips down while Yibo is using the bathroom but he doesn’t take all of his clothes off. Once again, he puts his sweatpants on. He goes to bed and thinks of that first day he woke, turned around, and stared into Yibo’s unfathomable teak-brown eyes.

He dreams of wings.

He isn’t flying in his dream, but he is hurtling forward, reaching out for a pair of huge, white wings spread wide. They’re stretching up from the back of an indistinct shape beyond him. He sees the wings beat wildly in the distance and he cries out, wordless and wanting. 

Xiao Zhan keeps trying to catch up to that figure when it resolves into the tall, lean shape of Yibo beside him. He’s got his hands outstretched but he’s not reaching for Xiao Zhan.

Feathers are raining down all around him, and he moves his hands to catch the long white plumes but they slip through his fingers like water droplets.

Xiao Zhan hurries forward to gather up feathers for him. Yibo is staring at him in betrayal, his hands spread in a gesture of entreaty, and all he wants to do is make it right.

He manages to catch one, a long glossy primary feather as long as Yibo’s forearm. “I’ve got it!” He holds it up to Yibo in triumph.

“Why would you do that?” Yibo demands, his voice raw.

Xiao Zhan wrenches his eyes from Yibo’s anguished face to the feather in his hand.

It’s drenched red from tip to root. As his mouth falls open, the feather dissolves in his hand and blood pools into his palm.

“No!” Xiao Zhan screams.

He flails, opening his eyes in darkness and fighting with the tangle of sheets that are wrapped around him. His heart is pounding so fast his pulse is thrumming in his throat, swooshing in his ears. He sits up and his eyes adjust to wakefulness.

“Zhan-ge?” The voice is so nearby that Yibo has to be right beside his bed.

“Yibo,” Xiao Zhan says sleepily, reaching out. He remembers that first morning again, waking up to Yibo sitting right beside his bed.

His hand pats against a soft cheek and the tickle of sleek hair against his fingertips.

Yibo takes his hand and holds it there for a second. He turns his head and soft lips are on the heel of Xiao Zhan’s hand.

Xiao Zhan’s fingers curl against Yibo’s cheek as awareness takes the forefront and that horrible dream recedes. “Yibo,” he says again, with intent. He wants to ask, _what are you doing next to my bed?_ He doesn’t say anything because he’s a little afraid of the answer.

That makes Yibo swing up from the floor and seat himself on the edge of the mattress where Xiao Zhan has trapped himself in a twist of sheet. In the dimness all he can see is the pale oval of face and the impression of mussed hair haloing it as two hands take hold to either side of his face and Yibo leans in and kisses him.

In that moment everything stops.

Yibo’s lips are soft and lush against his. They press against his mouth, finding a natural fit, and Xiao Zhan can’t move, he can only feel. Yibo’s lips glide against his in the gentlest, most exploring kiss he’s ever received. His hands cup along Xiao Zhan’s face, fingers tightening at the hinge of his jaw, and he makes a tiny noise, shifting closer, lips pressing against his harder.

Xiao Zhan makes a small, desperate sound in answer. The tip of Yibo’s tongue quests along the line of his lower lip.

That thrilling intrusion of tongue is what gets Xiao Zhan to break the kiss, disengaging with care. “Yibo…Yibo, you—” Xiao Zhan begins, and cuts himself off, shaking his head. He keeps Yibo at arm’s length. “We can’t.” _Not yet,_ he thinks. Yibo hasn’t even told him why he’s here; what he wants from him. It’s like entering into a one-sided contract but Xiao Zhan doesn’t know the terms.

“Do you love me, Zhan-ge?” Yibo asks, voice low. His hand caresses down Xiao Zhan’s neck.

Xiao Zhan brings his hand up to cover Yibo’s, stilling its movement. He takes an unsteady breath. “It…it has to go both ways.”

Yibo slips past the brace of the arm keeping him at range and flows up against him, sweeping his mouth along Xiao Zhan’s jaw, seeking his lips in the darkness and kissing him.

Xiao Zhan’s eyes squeeze shut in reflex. Yibo kisses him again and he can’t push him away.

“Let me sleep here with you,” Yibo says, turning his trapped hand and weaving his fingers with Xiao Zhan’s. He gives it a little squeeze.

“To sleep,” Xiao Zhan checks.

“Yes, to sleep.” Yibo sounds amused, even though he’s the one shifting further up the bed to drape himself across Xiao Zhan’s thighs. He adds, honeyed and low, “Please?”

Xiao Zhan’s resolve melts. “Yes,” he whispers. He doesn’t think he can deny this man anything. He can only hope Yibo will continue to respect that line he’s drawn.

~*~*~

He’s back to work the next day. Of course, because his design firm is launching from the ground floor—meaning his studio flat—he’s at his drafting table finishing up the first of his concepts for his new client. The very thought is thrilling—Xiao Zhan has a client! The first of many to come, he hopes.

His day began with the sight of Yibo in bed beside him more beautiful than the dawn.

He’d done a disservice to Yibo, he thought, making him sleep on the couch all the while. It probably wasn’t comfortable and he knows that his legs stuck out onto the arm. That morning was the first time Xiao Zhan recalls him sleeping in past Xiao Zhan waking and his face is angelic in repose.

Almost, he reaches out to touch him, to smooth a hand over the pliable skin of that cheek. The urge to touch is so strong that he shifts and turns and rolls himself out of bed with care to avoid disturbing the mattress or jarring Yibo. He gets up and readies himself for the day. He makes tea and congee for two.

There’s a strange, fragile space behind his ribcage.

Yibo compliments his congee again and gathers both bowls when they’re done, taking them to the sink to wash. He’d watched Xiao Zhan carefully as he performed the chore over the past few days; now he is taking care of it himself. Xiao Zhan sits at the table sipping his tea and watches him with a smile that he pulls straight when Yibo turns back in his direction.

“I have to get some work done,” Xiao Zhan tells him. Yibo nods and settles himself on the couch with his phone, keeping the television off.

He’d half expected him to go back to the park again.

Xiao Zhan is most of the way through finishing the inking the last touches on his first approved concept when his pen runs dry. With a tsk, he casts about his drafting table. His pencase isn’t there. He looks around as though examining the clean surface will make it appear; it doesn’t. At last he remembers that it’s in the satchel from the other day, from his absolutely awful day when he nearly failed his pitch, spilled tea all over his front, and collided with Yibo in the park.

He gets up and hunts around for it. It’s wedged in a corner of his bedroom area between the bed and the rack that he uses to organize his clothing.

“Ugh, what a mess,” Xiao Zhan murmurs, opening it to find a jumble of a dozen different things. With an impatient movement he flips it over and tips its contents onto the bed, giving it one last shake. He brushes a folder off the top layer of his belongings and finds himself staring at something that definitely isn’t his.

There’s an elaborate necklace caught between a pack of erasers and his spare glasses case; its short filigree chain is wound on one end of the case. It’s a delicate piece made of white beads and what looks like real feathers, small downy tufts and larger pinion feathers half as long as his finger.

_“Can I buy another one? Whatever it is you lost.”_

_“It’s…been with me…since I was born._

He’s never seen a Fae’s skin or mantle, but he knows what he’s looking at without being told. And he knows whose it is.

Xiao Zhan squeezes his eyes shut. Realization is a painful fist underneath his ribs. This is why Yibo is still here; this is why he stayed. It is, maybe, even why he tried to seduce him. Why he touches him and needs to be close to him.

He’s the one who’s got Yibo’s mantle.

He covers his face with both hands. Yibo literally can’t leave him. And that’s why he gave up looking.

Xiao Zhan opens his eyes and squares his shoulders. With a trembling hand and infinite care, he disentangles the necklace-mantle from his glasses case and drapes it along his fingers, standing and turning from the bed.

Yibo has shot to his feet and he stares at Xiao Zhan, eyes wild and chest heaving.

“It’s okay,” Xiao Zhan says, keeping his voice gentle like he’s addressing a spooked creature. He carries the mantle across the space between them, cradling the chain in his hand even though it can’t be too fragile or Yibo wouldn’t be able to wear it openly. The clasp on one end seems to be broken, but he’s sure Yibo will know how to get it repaired. Fae work, most certainly.

“Zhan-ge,” Yibo manages to get out, choked and hoarse.

“It’s all right, I understand now,” Xiao Zhan says with a deprecating little laugh. “Only, I didn’t know I had it this whole time; please believe me, okay?” His head bobs nervously.

Yibo’s face shuts down into unreadable lines. “I know that,” he says. “I do.”

He shuffles closer holding it out like an offering, but Yibo doesn’t take it. He just keeps staring at him with wide, dark eyes.

“It’s okay,” Xiao Zhan says again, very gently. “I didn’t mean to keep you here.” He extends his hand and Yibo’s comes up in what seems like a reflex, palm up. With that same care, all too aware of the significance of the necklace in his hand, he deposits Yibo’s mantle across his broad palm, feathers pooling in the hollow, delicate broken chain on top.

“Zhan-ge,” Yibo begins, sounding angry.

Xiao Zhan snatches his fingers away before he can touch Yibo’s skin. He’s been taking advantage, this whole time. He’s been making himself comfortable with what was never meant as his. He’s been falling—

“You can go,” Xiao Zhan reassures him.

Yibo’s face contorts. Shock and disbelief play across his beautiful features before returning to the flash of anger. “Xiao Zhan, I don’t—”

Xiao Zhan has to cut him off before he finishes. He needs to protect at least some part of himself. “Go home,” he urges, eyes burning. He clamps his jaw resolutely tight.

Yibo makes a low, furious noise but he whirls, clutching the mantle close to his front. He strides out of Xiao Zhan’s flat with long, hasty strides. The door bangs shut behind him.

And just like that, he’s gone.

Xiao Zhan sinks to his knees on the floor and covers his face with his hands. It’s a long time before he can make himself get up.

When he finally does, knees protesting, he moves around his own flat like a ghost and he knows work is done for the day. He hadn’t even found his pencil case, he thinks absently. His flat is too small. Every part of it reminds him of Yibo and his chest aches. When he tries to make tea and spills water across the counter, he gives up and pulls his phone out.

Xuan Lu picks up on the second ring. “Hey! I was hoping to hear from you soon.” Her voice is warm and it makes his eyes burn again.

“Lulu?” Xiao Zhan hates the way his voice trembles.

“Oh no,” Xuan Lu says in dismay. “What happened? Did something…did you and Yibo…”

He doesn’t bother correcting the assumption that he and Yibo ever ‘were.’

“We had a misunderstanding,” Xiao Zhan says and laughs shortly. “About the basis of the relationship to begin with.” His face crumples.

“Come over,” Xuan Lu says immediately, and that’s what Xiao Zhan was counting on.

~*~*~

He crashes on Lulu and Meng Ziyi’s couch that night and Meng Ziyi only complains a little bit. He’s an unobtrusive house guest. He sneaks out early the next morning and gathers his work things from his flat.

Xiao Zhan spends that day working at the library, eating street food beside a stall, grabs coffee with Ji Li who fills up all the interstitial spaces of his silence with welcome chatter, and returns to the library to work until the building closes.

He throws himself into work, into preparing new concepts for more bids and does his best not to touch his phone unless a notification chirps at him.

Although he ought to, he can’t bring himself to delete Yibo’s contact from his phone.

In a few days, he thinks he’ll reach out. He needs to make sure Yibo was able to repair it, to return home safely at least. He’ll keep worrying until he knows that much. Then, he thinks, maybe he can release the thought of him like setting that feather aloft on the wind.

Three days in, he looks at the bags of clothing lined up on the wall alongside his bed and thinks about donating them. It wasn’t his money and they’re not his to give away, but they won’t go to any use sitting around his flat and he’s not going to wear them. 

By the fourth day he’s able to sit and have tea at his draft table without thinking of Yibo. Working on the concepts for the environmental firm takes every bit of his willpower, though. The sweep of the wings that he sketched out, the ones that closed the client for him, are an integral part of every design.

Had his unconscious mind made the connection even back then? The curve of Yibo’s throat, the sleek line of his hair, those dark intense eyes…Xiao Zhan might have recognized him for a Fae right then, and his mind had buried it. It had emerged in his design proposals.

The fourth night, he’s able to get to sleep without tiring himself out with work or a jog around the neighborhood on a circuitous route that takes care to avoid the lake. He still can’t bring himself to change the sheets from the night since Yibo slept with him, though, partly because bundling all of his laundry to the cleaner’s takes up a third of the day or more. So he goes to sleep facing the ceiling and trying not to think of the faint, clean scent that lingers on the pillow beside him, sun-warmed silk and that indefinable quality that comes with a person when they’re fresh from the outdoors.

Meng Ziyi advised him to take melatonin and he tried it the first night but it gave him weird, vivid dreams and he couldn’t stand it.

He stops checking his phone around eleven. It’s maybe another hour before he eases into sleep at last.

The banging noise startles him up out of a light, fitful doze, a dream he halfway remembers. The banging was, in his dream, the lid of a trash can coming down repeatedly as Xiao Zhan tries to heave the abandoned bags of clothes inside. Each time he tries to lift a bag, the lid slams shut.

Xiao Zhan jerks upright and casts about for the source of the racket. He reaches for his phone and groans at the time. _Fucking two a.m._. The banging doesn’t stop, though, so he clicks on the light and tugs on his sweatpants and shuffles toward the door, rubbing at his sandy eyes. Nothing about this makes sense so he doesn’t bother to think it through.

When the door swings open, though, Xiao Zhan staggers back in shock.

It’s Yibo, his hair disarrayed in messy blond waves, his dark brown eyes snapping with fury, the delicate mantle fanned out over his collarbones like a tribal necklace. “You—” he bites off. He takes a single step forward. 

Xiao Zhan’s face crumples and Yibo’s entire demeanor shifts in an instant. He closes the distance between them, hands going to Xiao Zhan’s shoulders, his face twisting in distress.

“It was hard enough to let you go,” Xiao Zhan says to the floor, unable to make eye contact again. “Why are you taunting me? I already…I already said I didn’t know.”

“Zhan-ge,” Yibo says after such a long pause it tempts Xiao Zhan to look up. He keeps his gaze fixed on Yibo’s patterned sneakers. “I didn’t want to go.”

Xiao Zhan’s eyes jerk up to meet Yibo’s. “But, you left,” he says helplessly.

“You asshole, you _made me leave!_ ” Yibo exclaims, but there’s no heat to it. His fingers dig into the bare flesh of Xiao Zhan’s shoulders.

“Huh?”

Now he’s completely lost the plot.

With an impatient noise Yibo pushes him gently forward, shoves the door shut with his heel, and steers Xiao Zhan over to the couch.

Xiao Zhan is still trying to process the fact that Yibo is here, real and beautiful, the lines of his face tense with frustration.

“But, your mantle,” he says slowly, looking it over. It looks like a beautiful piece of artwork. The feathers, as he understands it, will actually be Yibo’s—probably from when he was still a child.

“You put it in my hand and told me to go home,” Yibo says flatly. His mouth is a thin line. “I couldn’t disobey. I _had_ to go.”

Horror dawns on Xiao Zhan’s face. “I _made_ you—” He shakes his head. “No, I only wanted to set you free!”

Yibo huffs. He reaches over and takes Xiao Zhan’s hands from where they’re resting on his thighs. “It’s okay. You didn’t know.”

“Then…” Xiao Zhan squeezes his hands painfully. “Then…then you…but, I thought you couldn’t leave because your mantle was lost. You’re telling me you wanted to stay?”

Yibo’s tongue pushes briefly against his lip. “Xiao Zhan, swans mate for life.” He ducks his head. His dark eyes peek over at him from beneath the frame of his lashes.

That strange, fragile space behind his ribcage is restored in an instant. It’s swelling to grand new proportions.

“But…but you didn’t choose me,” he falters, trying to pull his hands free. Yibo’s fingers tighten down, refusing to let him go. “It doesn’t count.”

“Like _fuck_ I didn’t choose!” Yibo retorts immediately, chin jerking up. A red flush spreads along his cheekbones. “I could have stolen my mantle back at any time.”

“What?” Xiao Zhan can only blink at him. “But I helped you look for it, and…and you knew?”

“I figured that you had it, but that you didn’t know you did,” Yibo replies. He frees one hand to put on Xiao Zhan’s thigh. “You’re too good. You wouldn’t take advantage of me like that.” He lowers his head and for a second Xiao Zhan thinks it’s from shyness until he looks up with a faintly lecherous smile playing over his mouth.

“You’re the one who tried to sleep with me more than once,” Xiao Zhan accuses.

Yibo purses his lips in that absolutely luscious way that gives Xiao Zhan the urge to sit forward and bite them. “Can you blame me?”

Xiao Zhan catches his breath at the direct look Yibo gives him.

“When did it…” Xiao Zhan fumbles and changes his question. “What changed for you?”

“Well, I came here to find my mantle,” he says, “but I stayed here—I wanted to stay—because it’s where you are. That afternoon in the park, when I asked if I could stay…I realized that was when I _wanted_ to. Not because I had to.”

Xiao Zhan takes in a slow breath. He’s hopeful beyond hope. “Do you love me, Yibo?”

“I’m not sure what love is,” Yibo admits, clasping his hand until he’s holding Xiao Zhan’s in both of his. He puts his head to the side. “I’m Fae, Zhan-ge. I only know with all my heart that you’re mine.” He says that last bit fiercely, his dark watchful eyes daring Xiao Zhan to dispute it.

Xiao Zhan’s mouth drops open.

“And I’m yours,” Yibo says, softer. Now he sounds almost shy. “So I’m hoping you can teach me the ‘love’ part. What it means. How to show you.”

A glowing, ebullient smile spreads across Xiao Zhan’s face to match the embers of hope catching fire in his heart. “Well,” he says, lifting his free hand to cup Yibo’s jaw. “This is a good start.” He exerts pressure on Yibo’s hands that have his trapped, drawing Yibo toward him.

Yibo’s sly smile is the only warning Xiao Zhan gets. He’s _yanked_ into Yibo’s arms and held tight against his long, lean body. “So I can kiss you now?”

Xiao Zhan murmurs, “I’m just surprised that you asked,” before their mouths meet in an enthusiastic crush halfway between them.

His kiss is strong and possessive; his mouth moves against Xiao Zhan’s with surety, claiming him. When his tongue flicks lightly along the seam of Xiao Zhan’s lips, Xiao Zhan is quick to part his lips and welcome him.

They trade kisses on his couch until he’s breathless, dizzy and drowning with want.

This time when Yibo asks Xiao Zhan if he wants to go to bed, he takes his hand and leads the way.

Right now, he’s only good for more kisses before he’ll sink into an easy sleep beside Yibo, but tomorrow is all theirs, and all the days after.

[epilogue]

It’s two nights later. Xiao Zhan has spent most of the last two days in bed—with Yibo—and he’s very happy about that. He hasn’t had any trouble whatsoever sleeping, but it’s now the middle of the night and he must have had too much evening tea or something because he has to get up to use the bathroom.

There’s a swan in Xiao Zhan’s tub.

He rubs his eyes and goes to use the toilet. It’s past midnight, he’s dead tired, and he has to pee.

The swan starts freaking out, splashing in the water and flapping its wings, long sinuous head thrashing.

“What the—Yibo, you’ve seen all this before!” Xiao Zhan exclaims, but he retreats from the bathroom and hurries back to bed.

Yibo is in bed.

“Fuck,” Xiao Zhan realizes, and pokes Yibo in the shoulder. “Yibo. Why is there a swan in my tub?”

Yibo stirs. He turns around and pulls Xiao Zhan into his arms. “That’s my cousin. I let her in an hour ago.” He comes more fully awake. “What just happened?”

“Um, I may have exposed myself to your cousin,” Xiao Zhan admits and burrows himself into Yibo’s arms with a groan. “What is she doing here?”

“Checking up on me; I turned around and left the nest right after coming back,” Yibo says sleepily. “Go back to bed, Zhan-ge. She’ll be gone in the morning. Then you can pee and I’ll fuck all those anxious thoughts right out of you.”

“I’m not—” Xiao Zhan bites off the protest. It’s useless, Yibo has seen right through him. He’s going to be tormented by the thought that Yibo’s cousin has seen his naked body.

He whines and hides his face in Yibo’s shoulder. The mantle tickles his cheek. He reaches up to pet it flat against the hollow of Yibo’s throat and Yibo’s hand goes around his wrist.

“Careful, or I’m going to forget she’s even here,” Yibo warns him.

Xiao Zhan shudders and whispers against his neck, “What if she tells your whole family?”

Yibo gives him a petting that’s probably meant to be soothing, but it’s only stirring Xiao Zhan up. “Don’t worry about that. They’re all going to know you’re mine when you meet them.”

Maybe it’s because he’s sleepy, but Xiao Zhan is having trouble connecting the dots between the first half of the sentence and the rest. He’s drowsing against Yibo’s shoulder though, almost asleep again, when the latter half catches up with him and his eyes snap open.

“What do you mean, when I meet them?”

Yibo’s nose nudges his. His kiss is brief but warm. It’s everything Xiao Zhan wants. “Sleep, Zhan-ge. We’ll talk about it in the morning.” 

“Mn. Well, so long as we’re together, I’m sure it’ll be all right.”


	2. far longer than forever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY BIRTHDAY WANG YIBO
> 
> Swan Yibo gets his happy ending.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> xelloss_poo and I worked very hard to get this done and posted in time for Wang Yibo's birthday. It just seemed fitting!

The thing about his life as a Fae is that Wang Yibo can’t remember being happy before Xiao Zhan.

He’s grown up in the fiercely competitive court of the Light Fae and the atmosphere of his family’s nest was only nurturing by a slim margin of comparison. Yibo spent plenty of his early life furious and striving, pushed to be cold and above reproach. He’s had stretches of contentment, when he was satisfied with how well he was coming out ahead of his peers. Mostly he’s been restless and angry, chafing at the constraints of court and family and his entire damned race.

His cousin Meilin predicted it was only a matter of time until he tried to make his way in the human world, spaces free of Fae influence and the intricate and tedious interactions with other Fae. Even his own family tasked his patience. Yibo had long since desired to cut the bullshit and speak plainly, say what he meant and not have it judged and weighed for hidden layers; to speak with a person without half the court imagining them betrothed before the end of the conversation.

Even for many amongst the Fae, Yibo was considered fair but he can’t remember desiring a deeper connection for anyone before Xiao Zhan.

As it turns out, Yibo is a simple man with simple pleasures and the complications and intricacies of Fae partners aren’t for him. He realizes, once he stumbles into the human world and very specifically collides with one singular person, that he wants someone open and honest, who is transparent in their emotions and desires.

With Xiao Zhan’s smile, in Xiao Zhan’s embrace, Yibo finds happiness. Whether he’s watching his sleeping face, following him as he flounders throughout his day, or hovers at his side with all of the friends who are thirsting for him, each and every emotion that comes from him is honest. He’s told Yibo every step of the way what he means and what he wants.

It's beautifully refreshing and Yibo is certain that makes his mate the perfect fit for him.

His line of Fae recognizes their potential partner not merely by interaction, but by touch. The moment Xiao Zhan’s knuckles met his in that congratulatory fist bump, the shudder of recognition twanged through him.

If he had been Fae, or any other person, Yibo might not have actively pursued that draw between them. Yet he hadn’t hesitated to make his choice because this was Xiao Zhan, his human. His one and only. He’d known it in his heart.

Then Xiao Zhan had _sent him away._

Yibo returned and put a toe in the nest—enough to qualify as having fulfilled Xiao Zhan’s directive to go home—before turning back and returning angry. At first, he’d thought Xiao Zhan had done it on purpose.

Who held someone’s mantle in their hand knowing what it was and gave them their freedom back?

All he’d wanted was to assure Xiao Zhan he didn’t want to leave, that he chose him and the human world, but he hadn’t been able to get even that much out before Xiao Zhan had ordered him to go home. At least he’d been able to clear up their misunderstanding swiftly, because Yibo is many things but he is not a liar. Fae find no honor in it and most deem it far more entertaining to twist the truth in such creative ways it doesn’t qualify as a lie on a technicality. Xiao Zhan accepts his words unconditionally and that’s a relief.

Once reunited, once Xiao Zhan accepts his suit, Yibo’s heart is settled on his course.

Now that he’s here in Xiao Zhan’s flat with his mate leading him to bed Yibo vows he’ll never leave him.

Well, small partings are allowed. It would be awkward if he won’t let him use the bathroom in public spaces or go to business meetings without him.

He kisses Xiao Zhan until his mate falls asleep in his arms and settles down in bed beside him, stroking his arms, his face. Yibo’s heart softens as Xiao Zhan nestles closer. As Fae, Yibo himself doesn’t need as much sleep—four or five hours for him is plenty. Once they are bonded in truth, their futures made one, Xiao Zhan will begin to take on some of his qualities by association. He’ll need less sleep, food will taste more intense, drink will be less potent. He’ll also share Yibo’s lifespan.

It is the most dangerous secret of the Fae. Each of them will live as long as the other. That means Xiao Zhan will live far beyond the years his humanity would have allotted him—but if his thread is cut short through unnatural means, Yibo will also die.

Of course, Yibo won’t let that happen.

They’ll live in the human world, because he could never countenance Xiao Zhan enduring the Fae. And Yibo will draw upon Meilin’s knowledge of the human world to begin to figure out how to ‘pass’ and blend in.

His favorite cousin is the black sheep of the family but she serves a crucial function. She is one of the executives who runs Wang Fae interests across a few of their business groups and her human husband is a CEO. She splits her time between the nest and the outside world and she’d been the first to suggest to Yibo that he’d be happier out here.

She’d even purchased him his mobile phone and made sure he had a basic understanding of human customs.

His phone is out of reach so he can’t check in with Meilin and reassure her that he is all right. He knows some of the Wang retainers had seen him before he turned on his heel and left and he’ll probably pay for that later in some form or another.

Yibo has left the nest for good, though. He’ll only ever return as a visitor.

He lays in bed stroking Xiao Zhan’s hair until he senses sleep coming upon him. He settles his hand in a possessive hold on Xiao Zhan’s waist and lets it take him under.

 _‘Mine,’_ he’d said only days before to Xiao Zhan’s friend and Xiao Zhan had never denied it. Yibo probably should have warned him then what he was in for. Once a Fae lays claim, if it’s not denied, it’s as good as pledging oneself to that Fae.

When he wakes, Yibo is going to lay his claim in full. He goes to sleep with a smile on his face.

Mornings at Xiao Zhan’s place are a slow and contented unraveling of the skein of dreams. Yibo can’t recall ever being so comfortable in his life. He wakes with a stretch and a sigh pulled from the depths of him; some of his back muscles retain a faint ache from so much flight over too short of a time period. Luoyang isn’t exactly close by swan’s flight.

A hand is on his forearm. The thumb moves lightly back and forth and Yibo opens his eyes at that small caress.

“Hello,” Xiao Zhan whispers and gives him that bright, somehow shy smile, his dark eyes vivid and fixed on his.

“Hey,” Yibo returns, his mouth curving upward in automatic response.

Xiao Zhan’s smile manages to widen even more and Yibo drinks it in. This is it, the look he can’t get enough of—the way Xiao Zhan is so beautiful and happy to see him.

Yibo has noticed he doesn’t look at anyone else that way and it thrills him. _Mine_ , he thinks, pleased with how his mate never denies it. He nudges forward until they’re nose to nose.

Xiao Zhan responds with a little nose wrinkle. “Morning breath,” he says, starting to scoot back.

“I don’t care,” Yibo breathes, shifting forward to seal his mouth over Xiao Zhan’s.

Despite the token protest, Xiao Zhan’s mouth parts for him at once, and Yibo presses in with tongue and all his pent-up desire. A bolt of touch-hunger zips down his spine; he drags Xiao Zhan close with an arm until they’re pressing up against one another from chest to thigh. The way Xiao Zhan moans into his mouth has Yibo undulating his tongue in, moving his hips in small eager circles and Xiao Zhan makes another breathy sound.

He's still wearing his sweatpants, but Yibo is only in his underwear and a thin white shirt and he wants to get all of his bare skin against Xiao Zhan’s as soon as possible.

He breaks the kiss to half sit up and skim his shirt over his head, tossing it out of range and settling back down beside Xiao Zhan. “Can I—” Yibo begins hungrily, stroking his hand down Xiao Zhan’s front from bare pectoral to the hollow of his hip.

“Anything,” Xiao Zhan says without hesitating.

Yibo gives him a distinctly dirty smirk. “Anything?” he repeats.

A faint blush colors Xiao Zhan’s cheekbones but he nods, mouth firming. “I’m yours,” he says.

It strikes Yibo right in his chest and he has to pause in his intended disrobing to sweep Xiao Zhan into his arms again. “You’re _mine_ ,” he repeats thickly, a swell of wonder overtaking him. “I hope you understand what that means. What you’ve accepted.”

Xiao Zhan’s hand cups his face. “Of course I do. Swans mate for life, right?”

Yibo replies with a small nod. He kisses the pulse point below Xiao Zhan’s ear, drawing back and placing small kisses along Xiao Zhan’s jaw until he can nuzzle against his mouth again. “Mn, and if we go further, you’ve accepted my claim.”

Xiao Zhan groans low and it makes Yibo want to grind his hips against him, but he keeps himself still with an effort of will. “I thought I had?”

“Yes, but this”—he pauses to press a lingering kiss on him—“seals the deal.”

He cups Xiao Zhan’s face between his hands and sees only desire and that tender emotion that pulls an answering tightness in Yibo’s chest. “I’m yours,” Xiao Zhan repeats and bites his lip.

“That look,” Yibo says. He nudges forward to place his mouth over the lip Xiao Zhan is biting, proprietary. “The look on your face, is it…”

Xiao Zhan nods and strokes his neck, shuddering when Yibo kisses him more thoroughly. “It’s love, Yibo; I love you.”

“Oh,” Yibo says. He bumps their foreheads together and takes that hand, holding it tightly to the centerline of his chest. “I feel it, here. It hurts…it feels warm. Like I want everything for you.”

Xiao Zhan chuckles and kisses him again. “That’s exactly how it feels.”

Yibo slides a hand down Xiao Zhan’s smooth back until he reaches the line of his sweatpants and pushes them down. Xiao Zhan doesn’t resist; he arches against him, even, his mouth parting sultry and hot under Yibo’s. Yibo’s eyes flutter shut and he pushes his hand into Xiao Zhan’s pants, seeking out and gripping the nearest firm handful of his ass. It’s round and perfect under his palm and he digs his fingers in, pulling it away from its twin.

“Wait,” Xiao Zhan pants against his ear, as Yibo breaks the kiss to devote more mental resources to the thought of getting all their clothes off. “Wait, I need to…I need to use the bathroom first.”

Yibo groans and drops his head to Xiao Zhan’s shoulder, getting a warm chuckle in his ear.

“I’ll be right back,” he promises, patting Yibo’s flank.

Yibo nods and releases him with reluctance.

Xiao Zhan gets up from the bed and instead of leaving for the bathroom, his stated intention, he turns to sweep his gaze over Yibo, putting his head to one side as he looks his fill. Yibo shifts, intending to reach out and capture a wrist to drag him back down. Xiao Zhan makes a squeaky noise and backs up a step. As he does, he pushes his sweatpants down, turns, and lets them slide down his long legs, kicking them off on his way to the bathroom.

“That’s cheating!” Yibo accuses and Xiao Zhan laughs in response.

Yibo shakes his head and gets up from the bed when he hears the door shut. He may as well take care of that bodily function too, so they can spend plenty of time in bed afterward. Xiao Zhan is in for a surprise if he thinks they’re getting up before they’ve had at least two orgasms. Maybe three. Yibo is ambitious and horny.

They pass one another in the bathroom doorway when it opens. This time Xiao Zhan is the one to initiate, pinning him up against the door frame and claiming a kiss, which turns Yibo on to no end. He appreciates the proof that Xiao Zhan is every bit as much into him. He gets three more kisses pressed onto him before they disengage long enough for him to go into the bathroom and he doesn’t bother shutting the door while he takes care of the essentials.

When he returns to the bed Xiao Zhan is fully naked and Yibo has to pause and admire that fact. He’d stripped his own underwear off after relieving himself and doesn’t anticipate needing another pair for at least a day or so. His eyes flick to the nightstand where Xiao Zhan keeps his phone; a bottle of lube is standing there.

Xiao Zhan notices him looking. 

“A guy has needs,” he says, flushing.

“You finger yourself?” Yibo asks intently, because he really, really wants to hear more about that.

Xiao Zhan bites his lip and nods. “And toys,” he replies, glancing at the nightstand.

Yibo _definitely_ wants to hear more about that. “Show me later,” he says, climbing back into bed and right on top of Xiao Zhan, who welcomes him with open arms.

Xiao Zhan’s hand goes to his hip and Yibo shudders, pressing his thickening cock against his mate’s belly.

“You’re big,” he says against Yibo’s mouth. “I’ve never—not that big.”

Yibo is glad he changed course in the middle of that sentence. “I’ll be careful,” he promises. He hesitates. “Unless you wanted to—” He’s reluctant, but willing enough. This is his mate. He wants to please him.

Xiao Zhan shakes his head. “I want you in me,” he asserts and bites Yibo’s chin.

Yibo grins and settles between Xiao Zhan’s thighs, kissing him, stroking his lean body, fingers reverent over his belly as he follows the line of hair from navel down to the groomed thatch of hair that surrounds his cock. He grips it and Xiao Zhan gasps into his mouth, hand going up to the join of his shoulder and neck. A small noise leaves Yibo’s throat as Xiao Zhan’s fingers brush over the feathers of his mantle.

“Oh,” Xiao Zhan exclaims, eyes flying open. “Is it…is that okay? If I touch it?”

Yibo nods. “It’s not that fragile, Zhan-ge. And I had the clasp re-forged doubly strong.”

“The feathers will hold up okay?” Xiao Zhan peers worriedly at him.

“They’re fine,” Yibo assures him. He takes Xiao Zhan’s hand and places it on his mantle. He can feel his touch from two perspectives now; through his mantle and the skin of his hand. It’s a strange doubled sensation. The mantle is like a sixth sense to him.

He knew it the second it was in Xiao Zhan’s hand two days ago.

“So soft,” Xiao Zhan marvels, eyes darting between Yibo’s and the feathers under his hand. “The longer ones are so silky.”

“They’re from my first pin feathers,” Yibo says proudly. 

“It’s beautiful,” Xiao Zhan says, stroking a feather, face intent.

“You’re beautiful,” Yibo returns, forthright. He curls his fingers at Xiao Zhan’s nape and tugs him over into another kiss.

Xiao Zhan parts his mouth under him and Yibo would have been happy to kiss him a good deal longer, but as he adjusts his weight on Xiao Zhan their cocks touch. Of course he has to reach for it again; he gets his hand around the length of Xiao Zhan’s cock and gives it a gentle tug.

“Nn…Yibo…better not…not too much of that, or I’ll…” Xiao Zhan warns, his beautiful face screwing up in distressed lines.

Yibo stops moving his hand, shifting his weight up off Xiao Zhan to get a good look at it. It’s perfect, smaller than his own but not small by any means, standing up proud and red, foreskin pulled back to expose the head. He can’t wait to get his mouth around it. He dots another kiss on Xiao Zhan’s lips. “Does that mean you want me to go right to fingering you?”

Xiao Zhan’s eyes open. His face is flushed already, sweat springing up at his temples and dewing the hollow of his throat. “I…how did you imagine our first time, Yibo?”

“Me in you,” Yibo says with no hesitation. “I want to kiss my way down your body, put your legs over my shoulders, eat you out, and get enough fingers in you to be sure I know you can take my dick.”

Xiao Zhan’s face gets redder.

Yibo puts his head to the side and gives him a smile, licking his lips. “So, can I?”

“Y-Yes, please, that sounds amazing,” Xiao Zhan manages and his cock flexes in Yibo’s hand. “Oh. I just realized…condoms.”

Yibo frowns up at him. “You don’t expect me to use those, do you?” He bends to lick the sweat from Xiao Zhan’s collarbone. “It’s not like you can get pregnant, ge.”

“Right, you’re Fae,” Xiao Zhan says, blinking. “Do you even have communicable diseases?”

“Not like human ones,” Yibo says and he’s perfectly happy to put that subject off for another time. Xiao Zhan doesn’t need to know the kinds of things that haunt the Fae when Yibo is about to join their bodies for the first time. It’s nothing he needs to worry about.

If possible, Xiao Zhan reddens even more and squirms under him. “You’re going to come in me,” he says, sounding pleased about it.

Yibo grins at him. He ducks his head and begins moving down Xiao Zhan’s body, pausing to map out one nipple with his lips then the other so that neither will be neglected. Xiao Zhan tenses a little when he does it, but the noises that leave him are pleased and he clutches at Yibo’s shoulder, holding him close. They’re dark, flat coins and Yibo enjoys making the centers pebble up hard beneath his tongue. When Xiao Zhan whines a little, Yibo moves on, trailing down soft skin over the faint outline of muscles, nosing his way to the dip of his navel. Xiao Zhan is ticklish there, he learns, so he doesn’t spend much time acquainting himself with it. He brings up a hand to pet the distinct trail of hair that connects navel to groin.

Xiao Zhan squirms again, making a breathy noise when Yibo reaches his cock. Yibo wants very much to take it into his mouth, it’s so pretty and red and hard for him, but he respects Xiao Zhan’s earlier warning and keeps scooting down, lifting up the sac where his balls have already drawn up tight.

“Zhan-ge,” Yibo says, wondering.

“Yibo, please,” Xiao Zhan whispers.

Yibo takes the pillow that his mate passes over and it lets him lift Xiao Zhan up at an angle that exposes his lovely, pert ass and everything else. Without further ado, he gets those endlessly long legs over his shoulders and helps himself. He licks right in, pressing his tongue against the dusky pucker several shades darker than the rest of Xiao Zhan’s skin. The taste of him is clean—he washed very recently—and Yibo licks harder, faster, getting past the faint remnant of soap to the musk and underlying taste of skin and sex. He actually gets his tongue in a little and Xiao Zhan moans, thighs flexing around Yibo’s head.

Yibo loses himself in it; the scent of his mate’s intimate parts is heady in his nose and he has a hand up under his cock and balls, not rubbing or massaging so much as cupping them with proprietary fingers. His nose rubs against the line of Xiao Zhan’s perineum as he laps eagerly at his hole, Frenching it as much as he’s able. Xiao Zhan responds with crackling little moans, his ass tensing but his entrance yielding to Yibo’s tongue.

He plunges it in and out and gets a finger in, lifting up with wet lips and tongue to regard Xiao Zhan sprawled out looking already wrecked. He rallies enough to pass the lube over, at least. Yibo grins at him and rewards him with another kiss to that sweet little hole.

“I need you,” Xiao Zhan tells him, eyes flashing.

“Yes, ge,” Yibo replies, grinning as he slicks up his fingers.

It occurs to him he could definitely spend an hour or more eating him out, to the point he could make Xiao Zhan come and keep on going, pulling him up enough to sink his cock in and fuck him to a second orgasm. He wants to do that later, though; right now, he’s just as eager to join their bodies as Xiao Zhan seems to be to receive him.

He fingers him open until Xiao Zhan is gasping, arching up and demanding Yibo’s dick. Yibo gets up on his knees, surveying the vision of his mate sprawled out and ready for him. He doesn’t linger; he lubes his dick up and gets Xiao Zhan’s legs over his shoulders again, lining up and pressing the head of it against the flutter of Xiao Zhan’s hole.

Xiao Zhan blinks up at him and purses his lips.

Yibo very much wants to follow up on that and kiss him, so he pushes his dick inside, just the tip at first. Xiao Zhan jolts a little but his body yields for him. His face remains relaxed, desirous, and Yibo follows those cues as he pushes in further, keeping up slow continuous pressure. He pauses a little bit here and there at the hint of tension on Xiao Zhan’s face and reaches to tweak his nipples, wringing a sweet little sound out of him. Xiao Zhan arches underneath him, legs tangling together across his back, urging him onward.

That makes Yibo nod and ease the rest of the way inside until he’s in to the hilt. He swears he can feel Xiao Zhan’s heartbeat embracing him.

“Zhan-ge,” Yibo utters, low. He lifts one hand to stroke a thigh, gripping it tight. He’s braced over him with one hand beside Xiao Zhan’s body. He dips in for a kiss and Xiao Zhan’s tongue tangles with his, sweet but urgent. Xiao Zhan makes a sound, one leg flexing over his back, and Yibo lifts up to look at him again. Wonder takes hold of him. He’s inside his mate; they’re joined.

“Yibo, move!” Xiao Zhan sounds as desperate as Yibo feels.

With a nod, Yibo begins to move, jolting forward at first even though he can’t get any deeper, pulling a whine out of Xiao Zhan as his body moves up the bed a short way. Yibo shifts his hand from thigh to waist, holding him in place as he begins to thrust, drawing his cock partially out and fucking back in with a short, hard pace. He has to force himself to slow down almost right away, easing in and out to avoid coming immediately. Even then, it’s close. He has to stop and look down at his mate, panting.

Xiao Zhan is practically glowing beneath him, his eyes radiant and his skin covered in blushes and sweat, one hand crooked up against his forehead, the other reaching out for Yibo. “Keep going, don’t stop,” Xiao Zhan moans.

Yibo tongues his lip and resumes the long, claiming thrusts that managed to keep him on edge. Xiao Zhan makes a frustrated noise, angling his hips like he can make Yibo move faster. Then he _tenses down_ , the tight rim of his entrance clamping on Yibo’s cock. Yibo groans loud and quickens his pace, fucking helplessly into the irresistible clench of his mate’s body, slapping noises loud between them with the force of his thrusts.

“Yes, yes,” Xiao Zhan chants, fingers wrapping around Yibo’s upper arm and gripping tight. “Like this…ahh, so good!” He tosses his head and he’s lifting up into Yibo’s ragged strokes.

“I…I’m going to…” Yibo warns, because Xiao Zhan’s body is tight and sweet and there was no way he was going to last long, not for the first time.

“Come in me,” Xiao Zhan entreats him. 

That does him in.

Yibo gazes into Xiao Zhan’s beautiful, needy face and his thrusts quicken without his conscious control. He surges over him, mouth open, and he’s not even sure what noise he makes as he holds onto Xiao Zhan’s waist; his dick swells even more and he tips over the edge. He comes for what feels like a small eternity, his entire being suffused with a pleasure and joy so intense it seems like he shouldn’t be able to withstand it. He should be radiating outward like a burst bubble. He moves his hand from Xiao Zhan’s waist to his cock and closes his fingers around it in a possessive clasp, pulling him right along into climax with him.

Xiao Zhan’s face is every bit as beautiful when he comes and Yibo drinks in the sight with greedy eyes, fingers moving over his cock, thumb teasing at the head. He savors the way his come spills out, landing along his stomach in thick white stripes. There’s a lot of it. Yibo dips his fingers in it and brings it to his mouth.

The sound that leaves Xiao Zhan is desperate but satisfied; his eyes are almost pleading, fixed on Yibo. 

He maintains eye contact as he scoops up Xiao Zhan’s spend and licks it off his fingers. Xiao Zhan makes another noise in his throat, eyes fluttering shut.

What Yibo wants most is to slide down the length of his body and lick it directly off his stomach, but that would involve disengaging his very happy cock from where it’s still snugly buried. Staying right where he is ranks higher on his desires right now.

He shifts them onto their sides so that they can remain joined while he tugs Xiao Zhan back in for another kiss. One turns into several; Xiao Zhan makes soft, happy sounds as their lips meet and part and meet again. Yibo catches Xiao Zhan’s bottom lip between his teeth and sucks softly on it; Xiao Zhan crowds closer to him.

They subside into stillness, looking at one another. Yibo strokes Xiao Zhan’s sweaty bangs out of his eyes.

“Was it good?” Yibo wants to know, even though he’s sure of the answer.

Xiao Zhan’s face lights up and he digs a thumb below Yibo’s collarbone. “You know it was.” His ears are red. “You’re still in me.”

“Mn,” Yibo says, reaching down to cup his ass. “I like being in you. Can I stay here till I get hard again?”

Xiao Zhan’s eyes widen. “I…can we do that?”

Yibo smirks at him. “Pretty sure we can,” he says, but doesn’t try to flex down there. He doesn’t want to slip out now that he’s soft. He keeps a broad hand cupped on Xiao Zhan’s ass to make sure of it.

“Oh,” Xiao Zhan breathes and there’s only interest and desire scrawled on his face. “Then, I want to try that.”

Permission granted, Yibo has to nudge forward for another little kiss. 

When he draws back from this one, he admires the sweep of Xiao Zhan’s eyelashes and the curve of his red, wet lips. “We’re mated now,” he says, because he can and it’s true. 

Xiao Zhan’s grin spreads slow but wide. “You’re mine,” he murmurs back. “And I’m yours. I have a feeling that’s like entering into a contract with the Fae.”

“It’s a pledge for sure,” Yibo says. He stretches to kiss Xiao Zhan’s cheekbone. “For life. Can’t be taken back.”

Xiao Zhan looks a little solemn at that. “I wouldn’t want to.” He strokes Yibo’s ruffled blond hair, tucking it behind his ear. “So it’s like Fae marriage?”

“Ah…” Yibo wrinkles his nose. He puts a hand to Xiao Zhan’s lower back; the hand he’s got wedged beneath him is on his hip, more or less. He pulls their bodies even closer and admires his mate’s attentive face. “No, that would be handfasting. There’s also marriage as the humans do. As of now, we’re _mated_ —it’s an understanding between us. Our bodies and lives are bound.” He bit his lip.

Perhaps he should have explained all of this before they consummated Yibo’s claim. He frets over that for all of two seconds before Xiao Zhan shifts forward to kiss him, lips clinging to his.

“Does that mean I can marry you and handfast you, too?” His eyes squeeze into pleased half-crescents.

“You want that?” Yibo is a little startled.

Xiao Zhan gives him a very direct look. “I’m going to nail this union down in every culture, Yibo.” He tenses down on him where they’re joined and Yibo shudders, delighted.

He supposes he’s not the only one who is proprietary, then.

“We can discuss the details later,” Yibo murmurs, pulling Xiao Zhan in for another kiss. He’s definitely down for a ceremony for each of them: one for the Fae side, one for the human world.

They settle into a rhythm of kisses that Yibo could fall into for the entire day. He definitely wants to occupy Xiao Zhan’s mouth as much as possible. Xiao Zhan is kissing him back with the same fervor, slipping his tongue in to explore and twine against his tongue and tickle against his hard palate as Yibo licks at the corner of his lip. Xiao Zhan holds the side of his face and makes sleepy pleased noises, though Yibo knows he isn’t anywhere near tired.

Yibo massages the base of Xiao Zhan’s spine with his hand. He presses one finger into the divot near his tailbone. He shifts his pelvis; he isn’t hard yet, but it won’t take too much longer. He leans in to kiss Xiao Zhan again and receives a finger across his lips. He scowls.

“I want to ride you,” Xiao Zhan says. “When you get hard again, I want to be on top.”

Yibo’s brows twitch up and he answers with a slow grin, kissing that finger. “I want that, too.”

“Good,” Xiao Zhan says. His slyly sweet smile is on full display. “Let’s work on that, then.”

Yibo snickers and presses in for all the kisses.

Kissing Xiao Zhan is better than anything he’s imagined, looking at that mouth and fantasizing about it for the past week. Each thrill that goes through his body as they kiss, as Xiao Zhan’s hands roam over him, is only confirmation of their rightness together. He focuses on the kiss at first but sends his fingers questing in the cleft of Xiao Zhan’s ass, rubbing downward until he traces the rim where it’s still open around his cock, which is semi-hard now. Xiao Zhan utters an interested noise and crowds against him, angling his hips to open himself to Yibo’s exploring fingers.

“Ahh…Yibo, I want you to do everything to me,” he breathes, landing a kiss along Yibo’s jaw. He bites down softly and Yibo responds with a low growl.

“I will, I’m going to,” Yibo assures him, rubbing his thumb along that sweet stretched rim. He thinks he’s going to need to spread some more lube around the base of his cock for them to keep going. “We should—” 

They both freeze when Xiao Zhan’s phone goes off in all its symphonic sound and fury.

Xiao Zhan groans and buries his face in Yibo’s neck.

“You’re not answering that,” Yibo says, sure of it. He rephrases his position, because, of course, while Xiao Zhan is his, he still possesses his own mind and free will. “If you answer that, I’m pulling out.”

Xiao Zhan emits a small cheeping noise and clings to him with arms and legs.

Yibo grins, victorious. He rubs Xiao Zhan’s ass in a soothing promise, shifting to press himself in and gauge how he’s firming up. The draw of Xiao Zhan’s body and his eager kisses definitely have him most of the way there.

The phone cuts off, but before Yibo can start trying to roll them in bed to get Xiao Zhan seated on his cock, it starts again from the beginning of its symphonic fanfare. Yibo lifts up to glare at it.

“I will throw you out the window,” Yibo informs it.

Xiao Zhan chuckles and kisses his nose, which Yibo immediately wrinkles. “You can’t, the windows don’t open.”

Yibo narrows his eyes. “Yet,” he says. He looks over his shoulder and scowls. “That doesn’t seem safe.”

“It probably isn’t, but it’s one of many factors that made the rent cheaper.”

Yibo sighs with relief when the phone stops ringing for the second time. He strokes his thumb one last time alongside Xiao Zhan’s entrance and his hardening cock, and gets a good grip on his hip. “If we shift carefully, I think I can roll onto my back with you astride me so that we don’t separate.”

“You’re really invested in staying in me,” Xiao Zhan observes.

Yibo lifts a brow. 

When the phone begins to ring again, Yibo _growls_. “All right, which of your friends is _this_ persistent?” It’s a good thing he can’t reach Xiao Zhan’s phone without squishing him, because he’d grab it and see if he can make it go through the glass of the window. It doesn’t look that thick. He’s sure he can do it.

Xiao Zhan winces a little and puts a hand to his face. “Normally I would say it’s not a friend, it’s probably my mom, but it’s a week day…and…” He trails off, sounding nervous.

“Zhan-ge?” Yibo prompts, squeezing his hip.

“Xuan Lu knew that you left and…and she’s been checking in on me,” Xiao Zhan confesses. “I was, um, kind of a mess. When you—when I ordered you to leave, not knowing what it meant.”

Yibo inhales, lets it out slowly, and shuts his mouth. This is definitely his fault. If he’d been up front with Xiao Zhan sooner…but the Fae in him had kept his secrets. Even though he’d laid claim and Xiao Zhan hadn’t denied it, he hadn’t possessed enough information to know what it meant.

“You’d better answer it, then,” he says with deep reluctance. Of all Xiao Zhan’s friends, he’d noted the young woman called Lulu was the least lustful and most platonic toward him, treating him in a sisterly manner. Yibo is very suspicious of most of the others, though.

Xiao Zhan begins to peel away and Yibo moves with him.

“Just turn and reach for it,” Yibo insists.

“Yibo,” Xiao Zhan begins, exasperated.

“Unless you want a huge wet spot?” Yibo questions. 

Xiao Zhan groans. “All right, let’s…roll together, I guess.” He makes a long arm and manages to snatch it off the nightstand before it stops ringing again. He settles back into Yibo’s hold with a grunt and Yibo’s eyes flutter; his dick is definitely interested in the proceedings again.

“Be good,” Xiao Zhan hisses and Yibo opens his eyes fully to smirk at him.

“Be specific,” he whispers back and Xiao Zhan gives him a look Yibo can’t understand, but he’s pretty sure he’s meant to know what it means. He’ll have him explain later.

Xiao Zhan’s mouth thins but he answers the phone and holds it up to the ear that isn’t pressed against his pillow. “Lulu? Hey.”

Yibo settles his hand over Xiao Zhan’s slender waist and strokes his fingers back and forth. He can hear everything; there’s no sense pretending he can’t. He’s going to be straightforward with his mate from now on.

Well, as much as he can be. He hopes Xiao Zhan won’t hesitate to call him out for being too Fae.

“Xiao Zhan, I left you five messages before I called you; it got me worried! You always have your phone on you!” Xuan Lu exclaims.

Yibo rolls his lips in. He’s trying not to move, but he’s more and more conscious of how he’s still inside Xiao Zhan’s tight heat. He wants to start pushing in and out again; he’s hard and ready. Xiao Zhan smells so incredibly _good_. He keeps his hand away from Xiao Zhan’s ass, though, even though what he wants more than anything is to pull him open a little and start rutting up into him.

When Xiao Zhan answers, he’s a little breathy and he must be able to see Yibo’s thoughts scrawled on his face. “Yeah…sorry…I didn’t pick up because Yibo…”

“Oh, Zhan-zhan, you’re still upset about him?” Xuan Lu says. Her voice is full of sympathy, but edged with impatience. “You only knew him a few days, sweetie—”

Yibo frowns, flexing against him, fingers digging into the perfect arch of that hip under his hand.

Xiao Zhan’s mouth drops open and his eyes flutter. “Nn…no, that’s not it,” he says faintly. “Yibo’s back. Here. Right now. That’s why I didn’t answer my phone.”

There’s a beat of silence then Xuan Lu says dubiously, “Are you okay?”

Yibo favors Xiao Zhan with a sunny smile, rubbing his hip.

“Fine!” Xiao Zhan replies, shooting up an octave. “Wonderful. It was a misunderstanding, Lulu. We’re together now.”

Yibo nods smugly, pressing in just enough to feel the yield of Xiao Zhan’s body.

Xiao Zhan’s hand flies up to cover his mouth and he shudders, clenching down on Yibo’s dick. Yibo would maybe feel a little bad about violating the injunction to be good if Xiao Zhan’s cock wasn’t perking up against his stomach.

“You said it was a misunderstanding a few days ago,” Xuan Lu says. There’s a careful note to her voice.

“Mm-hmm,” Xiao Zhan responds, tensing his leg where it’s around Yibo’s backside, flexing himself down on Yibo’s dick. His eyes are rolling up and he’s clearly losing the thread of conversation.

“I just want to be sure you’re okay,” Xuan Lu says. Yibo kind of has to admire her persistence. He reminds himself to ask Xiao Zhan what might be an appropriate gift to thank her for taking care of him while Yibo was away.

“I’m better than okay,” Xiao Zhan says, hauling one last brain cell from the brink. “Truly. Lulu, I’ll talk to you later. We’re, um, working through some things. In a good way! Don’t call me, I’ll call you.” He hangs up and tosses his phone away; it lands somewhere on the floor and he drapes himself over Yibo with a deep shudder, clamping down on Yibo’s cock.

“Sorry,” Yibo says, not remotely sorry, and he knows he sounds unrepentant.

Xiao Zhan licks his neck. “You can make it up to me by rolling onto your back so I can fuck myself on your cock.”

It’s a brilliant plan. The most perfect plan. Yibo is fully in favor of this plan.

He gets his hands on the tops of Xiao Zhan's thighs just under the curves of his ass and holds onto him tight with Xiao Zhan clinging to him. Together they manage to ease and shift toward the middle of the bed until Xiao Zhan is fully atop him. Xiao Zhan shudders deeply and Yibo groans, toes curling. He manages to hold still, fingers rubbing the crease between ass and thigh.

"We did it," Xiao Zhan says, eyes squeezed shut. "Ahh, this feels so good. You have the best ideas, Yibo. Now I'm going to want you to stay in me all the time after we have sex, you already spoiled me this much with our first time."

"I see absolutely no problem with that," Yibo says, gripping his mate's ass a little tighter. The thought is thrilling, actually; staying inside Xiao Zhan every time for a second round.

Xiao Zhan replies with a breathless laugh. "Did you just get bigger...? Yes, you did. Nn...Yibo, Yibo...I'm going to move."

Yibo licks his lips. "Please."

With a heavy nod Xiao Zhan begins to twitch his hips forward and back, short almost tentative movements at first. Yibo's tongue stays wedged at the corner of his mouth as he watches Xiao Zhan's cock plump up and get redder, lengthening in front of his hungry eyes. He keeps his hands where they are for now, though, content to gaze up at Xiao Zhan beginning to grind on his dick.

His movements get more sure as he begins to rock back and forth. He looks down at Yibo, eyes heavy lidded, his cheekbones and neck covered with a flush again, bottom lip between his teeth. Yibo has to bring his hands up to those stripped hips to stroke his fingers there in encouragement. Xiao Zhan gives him a little moan and rocks faster, making Yibo grunt. He's not bouncing on it but he is fucking himself on Yibo's dick and Yibo's dick is very happy with the state of affairs.

Xiao Zhan quickens his pace with a sweet, high noise, pulling up enough to let Yibo’s cock slip partially out of him before sitting back down. He repeats this a few times but their skin starts to stick and he winces. Yibo reaches for the lube, uncapping it. Biting his lip again, Xiao Zhan leans onto Yibo’s chest, letting his dick slide out until only the head and a bit more are still inside him.

Yibo takes the hint and squeezes some lube into his fingers, reaching down to wrap them around his dick and get it nice and slippery. It’s not exactly cold, but it’s cooler than his hard erection. He’s quick about it, working the lube around and pulling his hand away so that Xiao Zhan can sit back and take him in again. He looks around for a place to wipe the lube left on his fingers.

“Just wipe it on the comforter,” Xiao Zhan says. His little noises start up again as he starts to bounce on Yibo’s cock, lifting and dropping, making him—and clearly himself—a lot hotter with each bounce.

After wiping his fingers off in a fold of comforter, Yibo restores his hands to Xiao Zhan’s hips and watches him ride, flicking his lower lip with his tongue every so often. 

The little whimpers that leave Xiao Zhan as he rolls his hips are so sexy and tempting, Yibo twitches up every so often, digging his heels into the bedspread and pushing into the tight heat that surrounds him. That makes Xiao Zhan moan and grind a little harder before he returns to that maddeningly steady pace. He rides him with even, regular movements for a while before switching it up with insistent bouncing, hard and fast; right when Yibo thinks he’s about to come, Xiao Zhan eases back to the slower rocking.

In short, it’s perfect. Exactly what Yibo was craving: a long, sensuous coupling, with Xiao Zhan in full control. And he draws it out beautifully. His cock is a fierce red, more purple around the head, shiny at the tip with pre-come. Yibo wants to take him in hand and it takes a tremendous effort of will to keep gripping Xiao Zhan’s hips and let him continue to seek his pleasure.

Yibo loses time, caught up in the draw of his mate’s body and watching the play of pleasure over his face. He caresses his hips, even his lower belly, and savors the sight of Xiao Zhan working himself on his cock with ever more frantic movements. He rubs a thumb along the trail of hair that points down from the dip of his navel to his cock.

He speeds up, bouncing again, desperate little ‘uh-uh-uh’ noises escaping him and he’s definitely working toward orgasm now, clamping down on Yibo and working his cock. He’s got one hand braced on Yibo’s stomach and he could stroke himself, Yibo wants to see him do that at some point, but Yibo decides to indulge his desires at last. He wraps his hand around Xiao Zhan’s very red cock, spreads all the pre-come around the tip until it’s shiny, and strokes it down over the length with his hand. It’s a perfect fit in his big hand, the tip peeking out over where his thumb meets his index finger.

Xiao Zhan wails as Yibo begins to strip his hand up and down. It only takes a few strokes in his firm grip before come is pulsing over his hand, jetting up and landing on Yibo’s stomach with one bounce, up against Xiao Zhan’s as he jolts back down. He’s clenching down in rhythm on Yibo’s dick and that’s what pulls Yibo over the edge to tumble into climax along with him. Yibo groans, pushing up to fuck into him in a few urgent thrusts as he comes harder than he can remember.

When Xiao Zhan collapses into his arms, Yibo’s arms go around him tight. All he can do as his brain calms from the white noise of orgasm is hold Xiao Zhan against him, breathing in the scent of his skin and their sex, utterly grateful for the man in his hold. He strokes Xiao Zhan’s sweaty back and kisses his cheek, which is nestled against his jaw. Xiao Zhan lifts up a bit and looks at him with wonder in his eyes.

“Come here and kiss me,” Yibo demands.

Xiao Zhan gives an exhausted chuckle but he smiles; he shifts up to kiss him. It’s slow and languid and Yibo massages his lower back and upper ass as they make out.

After several slow, wet kisses traded back and forth, Xiao Zhan lifts up enough to look at him and he grins, flicking his fingers through Yibo’s mussed hair.

“What?” Yibo asks, a laugh in his voice. He licks his lower lip. 

“With that hair spread out around your face it’s like a halo,” Xiao Zhan says. He purses his lips and gives him a quick peck. “But you’re no angel!”

Yibo growls and tightens his arm, putting a hand to the back of Xiao Zhan’s head to sweep him into another deep kiss, tongue-forward and claiming.

“I think,” Xiao Zhan says, and collapses against him once they break their latest kiss. “I need to go to the bathroom. And I have to be quick about it or this is going to be the biggest wet spot ever.”

Yibo chuckles. “Bring back towels,” he suggests.

“And food,” Xiao Zhan says.

Yibo raises a brow. “I see you’re on board with plan ‘stay in bed all day.’” 

Xiao Zhan grins. “After that? We’re snacking to replenish our energy then making out until we can go again.”

That earns him a kiss and an ass grab. “You are the perfect mate,” Yibo says appreciatively. That’s in total unison with his own desires.

Xiao Zhan kisses him again, a quick one on the lips. “I hope you don’t mind spending the next two days in bed; I can’t see getting tired of this any time soon.”

Yibo’s eyes widen. “Did you read my mind?” he breathes.

Xiao Zhan laughs and kisses him one more time before he begins to squirm a bit and lift up. “It means we’re well-suited, obviously.”

“Obviously,” Yibo echoes, steadying Xiao Zhan as he begins to pull off, wrinkling his nose in a face that is probably not intended to be adorable, but fully is.

Xiao Zhan rolls over and out of bed, keeping both hands on his butt and Yibo manages, barely, to suppress a laugh as he watches his mate perform a fast duck waddle on his way to the bathroom.

He’s got cooling come all over his belly and solar plexus and he decides to wait for the towel. He props an arm behind his head and daydreams about the sex they’ve just had and the sex he is definitely planning on having. He thinks about Xiao Zhan’s plump mouth, his peach of an ass, his long, lean body, those slim thighs and the length of his legs wrapped around him. He wants to suck him off. He wants to kiss him for hours. He wants to bring him off with his hand while Xiao Zhan tugs on his cock too. He wants them to rut against each other’s bellies and come that way, hard and desperate with their mouths connected, unable to part for a single gasping breath.

And Yibo definitely wants to see Xiao Zhan play with his toys. Maybe they can also order new toys for the two of them to share. Mn, he can definitely see a well-spent hour or more poring over toys together.

He also wants Xiao Zhan to tell him every last sexy thought he’s had about Yibo. He wants to know about the sex that Xiao Zhan wants to have with him, and decide between the two of them what they want to try next.

When Xiao Zhan returns, he has to make two trips before he climbs back into bed with Yibo. He dumps an armful of towels and water bottles at the foot of the bed and goes over to his kitchen area. For a few seconds, Yibo is worried his mate is going to start cooking when he wants him back as soon as possible in the bed and his arms. Xiao Zhan returns with some microwave-warmed mantou and some wrapped bars that he puts on the nightstand. He passes half the mantou over on a folded paper towel and climbs back into bed with a sparkling smile.

“It’s not much, but—” He squeaks as Yibo reels him into the crook of his arm and kisses his cheek.

“What are you talking about? You’re my everything.” Yibo gives him a smug grin as Xiao Zhan’s eyes go wide.

“Ahh, Yibo,” Xiao Zhan complains, going red and trying to jab him in the ribs, but the delight rings clear in his voice.

They sit side by side on the bed together and Yibo tangles an ankle around Xiao Zhan’s. He’s never been this happy. He turns his head and brushes a mantou-filled kiss over Xiao Zhan’s cheek. 

“You make me happy,” he says aloud, trying this new practice of giving voice to his thoughts, the things he would have kept secret before. His chest expands with warmth.

Xiao Zhan looks at him with that glowing, tender face that means he loves him.

“And I hope to for a long, long time,” Xiao Zhan murmurs, leaning over to brush a kiss beside his mouth.

“You don’t know the half of it,” Yibo murmurs and Xiao Zhan’s brows raise.

They do, indeed, spend the rest of the day in bed. Not all of it is sex, though they definitely get their fill of that to the point Xiao Zhan starts to complain about chafing by the time night paints the windows with the sweep of a dark brush. They talk in between rounds, hold one another, kiss, and giggle as they poke playful swipes at each other.

Yibo tells Xiao Zhan about growing up Fae. Xiao Zhan tells Yibo about growing up in Chongqing, moving to Beijing to take a dull corporate job that he’s abandoned to start his own design firm. Yibo tells Xiao Zhan, in one of the calm moments when they’re twined close together and he’s still nestled inside, about the small but significant changes he’ll start to notice in himself now that they’re mated. Xiao Zhan blinks for a bit but accepts it in stride.

“Does that make me part Fae?” he wonders.

“More like Fae by association,” Yibo replies.

“And…the longevity…so that’s what you meant,” Xiao Zhan says with a frown. 

“It’s not the kind of thing I could have told you sooner,” Yibo says, apologetic nonetheless.

“No, I see why,” Xiao Zhan says. His hand squeezes down on Yibo’s wrist. “Yibo. Don’t worry about putting me off. I’m in this together with you.”

Yibo nods and he’s relieved at last. He really has found his mate and he’s got no idea how he became so lucky.

That revelation is followed by more satisfying sex. Not the penetrative kind; Yibo sucks Xiao Zhan off slowly, taking his time with it. Once he’s done he jerks himself off on Xiao Zhan’s belly, maintaining eye contact the entire time. He cleans them both up and they fall asleep sated in each other’s arms.

They spend the following day in bed more or less as well, with somewhat less sex and a lot more talking. Beyond making him happy, Xiao Zhan is easy to talk to and Yibo is pleased they never seem to run out of subjects to share thoughts on. They definitely spend a few hours poring over toys together and discussing all the different things they want to try with each other.

By the second night back with Xiao Zhan, Yibo is wiped out on a physical and emotional level, as wonderful as it’s all been. He actually falls asleep at the same time his mate does. They doze off together after trading increasingly sleepy kisses and sharing one last thought about their plans for the future. Yibo tells him that he loves him as Xiao Zhan’s eyelashes settle across his luminous face. Xiao Zhan falls asleep with a beatific smile on his face. Yibo kisses his cheekbone and settles down, nestled front to front.

Yibo jerks awake at the knock on the door. He looks down at Xiao Zhan, still deep in sleep. “If this is one of your friends again…” he murmurs, deeply irritated. He glances at a phone display as he climbs out of bed with incredible care to avoid disturbing Xiao Zhan. It’s around eleven p.m. He hunts up a pair of the boxers he purchased the previous week and hurries over to the door before whoever it is can try to knock louder and disturb his sleeping mate.

He jerks open the door with a scowl.

Meilin freezes mid-knock and thins her lips at him, rolling her eyes. “Well, well; you are alive.”

“Tang-jie,” Yibo mutters, embarrassed.

“Oh good!” Meilin exclaims with fake relief. “He remembers he has family outside of his shiny brand-new mate!”

Yibo compresses his lips and folds his arms over his naked chest. “What are you _doing_ here?”

Meilin scoffs. “Really? You have to ask? You went back to the nest for all of two seconds before turning right around and going back to Beijing. What do you think I’m doing here? You’re lucky it’s me and not your mother.”

Yibo puts his head to one side, grimacing but acknowledging that. “Why didn’t you call?”

“I did,” Meilin says with acidity. “About twelve times. Have you even touched your phone since you got here?”

“Well, no,” Yibo admits, uncurling one arm from his front. “We’ve been having a lot of s—”

“Spare me,” Meilin interrupts. “You’re newly mated; I get it. Now that I have visual proof that you’re alive and have obviously been consummating your union, you’re going to put me up for the night.”

Yibo blinks and puts a hand up into his disarrayed hair. “Wait. What?”

“It’s just like last time, Bo-tang-di; I flew in from Guangzhou. I am not turning around and flying back, and I’m not spending family money on a hotel just for a wellness check for you.”

Yibo scratches at his nape. “Do you mind staying in the bathtub again?”

“What’s wrong with the couch?” Meilin snipes. “You’re mated now; you can’t seriously tell me he’s making you sleep on the couch, still.”

“Well, no,” Yibo says, shifty. “But we had to use those sheets.” He doesn’t want to tell her what they did on the couch that day.

Meilin huffs. She has no trouble reading his expression, as always. “Okay, I absolutely do not want details, so the tub will be fine. Fill it up for me with tepid water, then.”

Yibo nods and holds the front door open for her and locks it behind her. He heads into the bathroom first and runs a tub halfway between the warm and cold water, sticking a hand below the faucet to keep an impression of the temperature.

Once it’s full, he turns to Meilin, who’s already in the bathroom.

“Is he good for you, tang-di?”

Yibo’s smile spreads over his face, slow but sure. “He is, tang-jie,” he replies. There’s a lot he’s not saying, but they’re Fae. It’s going to remain unsaid between them.

“What does he do? Please tell me you didn’t mate an idol, the last thing the Wang group needs is visibility of any kind,” Meilin says.

Yibo purses his lips. “No, he’s an artist. A graphic designer. He’s just started his own firm.”

Meilin nods. “If he’s any good, we can put some Fae work in his path.”

“He is good,” Yibo says proudly. 

“All right, I’ll follow up on that,” Meilin says, and Yibo knows she will.

“I’ll also need to figure out what to do out here, in the human world,” Yibo says. “Unless I can leech off the Wang fortune?” He raises his brows and gives her his best puppy look.

“You wish,” Meilin says with a snort. Like the rest of his family, she’s immune to his wiles. “We’ll figure something out. You’re going to work even if it’s family bread.”

Yibo tsks, but he nods. It’s followed up by a jaw-cracking yawn.

Meilin pats his shoulder. “Go to bed, then. Talk later. I’ll be gone before morning.”

Yibo nods and tweaks a lock of her platinum blonde hair. “Rest well.”

“And don’t wear the boy out,” she teases him. “Bring him back to the nest when you can.”

Yibo takes a slow breath, but he nods acknowledgment. He has no choice, really; the sooner, the better. At least he knows Xiao Zhan isn’t likely to balk at this point, given he was interested in handfasting.

“Understood. Safe journey, tang-jie.”

Meilin gives him a brief smile. “Congratulations, Yibo. I think you’ll be very happy.”

His lips curl in a smile of his own as he turns away. He’s satisfied it’s Meilin to be the first to offer congratulations, seeing as she’s responsible in part for his current situation.

He returns to Xiao Zhan and resumes his place in bed as carefully as he left it. He falls asleep right away.

Sometime later, Xiao Zhan wakes him with a poke and a distressed inquiry regarding the swan in the tub. Yibo manages to placate him and get him settled back in bed, where he seems to drop off against his shoulder instantly, but Yibo is awake for another hour, seething over the fact that his cousin has apparently seen his mate naked. His! Mate! Xiao Zhan’s nudity is not for anyone else’s eyes.

He does manage to join him in sleep, though he rouses briefly when Meilin sneaks out the front door with one last wave.

Yibo pouts at her, which she ignores.

He sleeps until Xiao Zhan wakes him again with a poke in the shoulder.

“Today we’re going out for breakfast,” Xiao Zhan declares.

Yibo grumbles and puts an arm around his waist. “Noo, not clothes,” he complains.

“Clothes and more to the point, a balanced meal,” Xiao Zhan says. “And tea. And fixings for future meals. You’re not a vegetarian.”

“I’m not,” Yibo confirms, sitting up and rubbing at one eye. “Mostly fish, most kinds of vegetables. Though I’m personally not fond of root vegetables. No beef or most other red meats, no bird meat of any kind. No chicken stock, which is sometimes a problem.”

“Ah, of course,” Xiao Zhan says. He pets Yibo’s arm. “Makes sense.”

“No shark, either,” Yibo continues with a delicate shudder. “That’s just awful.”

Xiao Zhan chuckles and the sheet slides lower on his hips.

Yibo is gazing respectfully.

“Breakfast,” Xiao Zhan reminds him with a smile.

“You could be breakfast,” Yibo mumbles. His eyes snap up to Xiao Zhan’s eyes. “My cousin!”

Xiao Zhan grimaces. “Saw all of this.” He puts his hands over his face. “How am I going to face her when I meet your family?”

Yibo hooks an arm around him. “My cousin saw what’s mine,” he says, irritated all over again.

“How was I supposed to know!” Xiao Zhan exclaims. 

“I need to claim what’s mine,” Yibo says, rubbing his cheek on Xiao Zhan’s shoulder.

“You can. After breakfast,” Xiao Zhan tells him, petting his hair. “I’m all yours; you have nothing to be insecure about.”

Yibo frowns. “It’s not insecurity; it’s possessiveness.”

Xiao Zhan laughs and doesn’t argue.

As they’re putting clothes on, which Yibo deeply regrets and tries to figure out a way around—and fails, because he’s actually hungry—he remembers what Meilin mentioned in the middle of the night.

“We have to visit my family,” Yibo announces.

Xiao Zhan finishes pulling his shirt on and blinks at him. “Okay?” he says cautiously.

“Oh, good, you agreed,” Yibo says with relief. “How does two weeks sound?”

“Is that the duration, or when we’ll go?” Xiao Zhan asks, giving him worried eyes.

“We’d go visit in two weeks,” Yibo clarifies. He gives a delicate shudder. “Ugh. No. I stay in the nest for as short a time as I can get away with. Two nights maximum.”

“Then…that sounds fine?” Xiao Zhan says, keeping his full attention on Yibo.

“Don’t worry, Zhan-ge, they’re going to love you,” Yibo assures him. They might not be thrilled, exactly, that he’s chosen a human, but they know Yibo’s always been a little weird. Even for a Fae.

“Then…would we do the handfasting when we visit, or would that be further on?” Xiao Zhan ventures.

Yibo grins. “I’d be happy doing it on the spot, but the family is going to want more preparation. And won’t you want to tell yours, too?”

Xiao Zhan’s eyes widen and a hand flies up to his cheek. “Oh! I have to tell my parents!” He turns his panicked eyes on Yibo. “Can we…do you think we can go to Chongqing after Luoyang? This kind of thing, honestly, it’s better in person.”

“Agreed,” Yibo says. “I’ll have Meilin arrange tickets for us, then.” He reaches out to grab Xiao Zhan’s hand.

“All right,” Xiao Zhan replies. His face eases into relaxed lines; he’s smiling again. His fingers lace together with Yibo’s. “Ready to leave the flat, finally?”

Yibo leans over to kiss him. “Ready to face anything, so long as I have you.”

He intends to never leave his happiness behind him from now until their ever after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...they live happily ever after.
> 
> Thank you for reading! Please let me know if you liked it. I have lots of head canon for these two, and won't rule out another chapter or two, but promise nothing except the fact this will not be a series. ^_^
> 
> I babble vaguely about upcoming projects at [@bounddreamer](https://twitter.com/bounddreamer).

**Author's Note:**

> Nerdy aside, he is actually Wang Yibo, but as a Fae, of course he’d never give his full name out to people he doesn’t trust. In fact, Wang may not be their _real_ family name…
> 
> Various people can attest that I had to fight Swan Yibo very hard to keep this to a T-rating. He wanted to claim his mate; I fought back on the grounds it doesn’t fit the tone of the fic.
> 
> So here’s the compromise: This fic is complete, as-is, but I’m going to add a chapter as a “bonus extra” at some point in the next week or so where Yibo gets his way (with his brand new mate Xiao Zhan).
> 
> If you like this ending and you’re happy with it, it truly is complete! But if you wanna see that little bit of extra plus maybe a follow up on that ‘meet the family’ threat, please subscribe. (This is NOT turning into a series, that’s why it’s going to be a chaptered extra.)
> 
> And all of you bonus extra fans can thank Xinxin for feeding _that_ bunny.
> 
> You can find me on Twitter at [@bounddreamer](https://twitter.com/bounddreamer) where I like to post pics of these boys, my cats, food, and talk about all of the above plus video games. WangXian (and BJYX) thirst hours are 24/7.


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